


Please Don't Leave Me (Behind)

by Dumbtard (sophiethung)



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, yanjun is an idiot, zhangjing is a mess, ziyi is in love but ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-05-08 04:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14686272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiethung/pseuds/Dumbtard
Summary: "Don't fall for a straight unless you want to go through hell." That's what Zhangjing told Ziyi, and he wholeheartedly stands by his words.Yes, Zhangjing is a hypocrite. He already knows.





	1. Chapter 1

There’s something oddly comforting about having one of the biggest, buffest trainees still left on this hell of a show appear at your door, seemingly close to tears, just so he can drag you away to the small space on the top floor to fall into your arms and vent like a madman. 

It’s certainly not how Zhangjing expected to spend the night after the final debut mission was announced, but here he is, comforting an endlessly frustrated Wang Ziyi. 

“-and then he started talking about staying friends even if one of us doesn’t make it,” Ziyi groans, his voice muffled against Zhangjing’s shoulder. Zhangjing pats Ziyi’s back, but it feels wrong. The angle is incredibly awkward, mostly because Ziyi is far too tall to be putting his head on Zhangjing’s shoulder, but also because the space they’re in is small, and if Zhangjing moves slightly to the left, he’d be hanging out the window. 

“Maybe he was talking about himself?” Zhangjing offers lamely. Though Ziyi comes to him often about these sorts of things, Zhangjing really doesn’t know what to say in this situation in particular. 

“That’s not the point, gege,” says Ziyi, stretching to his full height again. He's not crying - he just looks like he’s about to. Zhangjing has never actually seen Ziyi cry, no matter how absolutely heartbroken the guy might seem. “The point is, he cares so much as a  _ friend,  _ and I feel really fucking shitty because I  _ like  _ this guy.”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to explain it,” Zhangjing says with a sigh, clapping Ziyi on the shoulder in a way he hopes to be comforting. It’s probably not. “I did try to warn you though. Why’d you have to pick Cai Xukun of all people, eh?”

Ziyi groans. He quite obviously regrets just about everything, and Zhangjing doesn’t blame him. 

Ever since  _ I Will Always Remember,  _ during which Zhangjing found out he is, in fact, not the only gay in this god-forsaken mansion, Ziyi and Zhangjing have been coming up to this place to talk. It’s too small a space to have cameras, and the others never come up here anway, so it’s become a bit of a safe space for the two of them. 

The others have the bathroom, and they have this. It’s not much, but it’s enough. 

“Remember what I told you?” Zhangjing asks, brow furrowing. It’s important that Ziyi remembers this, because Zhangjing worries about him, and he doesn’t want him to get hurt.

“‘Don’t fall for a straight unless you want to go through hell’,” Ziyi recites obediently, letting his head hang low. With his shoulders slumped too, he really looks quite pitiful. He mumbles something after that Zhangjing doesn’t catch, but it sounds an awful lot like “You’re one to talk”.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Good boy. Now go eat dinner,” says Zhangjing, pushing Ziyi towards the stairs gently, hoping to send him on his way. Ziyi stumbles and pauses, throwing back a questioning look. Zhangjing waves him off. “Go! I already ate.”

Ziyi nods and disappears  down the stairs, leaving Zhangjing to sigh in relief. Ziyi, apart from perhaps Lin Chaoze and Lin Yanjun, is the only one who watches Zhangjing’s diet carefully. He would’ve noticed Zhangjing’s growling stomach had he stayed any longer. 

Reluctantly, Zhangjing fishes a packet of gum out of his pocket and pops one in his mouth, making his way back to the dorm. 

“What did he want?” Chaoze asks as soon as Zhangjing walks through the dorm. Usually when Ziyi seeks out Zhangjing or vice versa, it’s right after training and nobody notices anything, but it’s also not uncommon for Ziyi to come straight to the door. Zhangjing really doesn’t mind either way, because he knows Chaoze will just assume Ziyi is one of many didi’s that come to Zhangjing for help - which is also true. 

“Oh, the usual,” Zhangjing says casually, “emotional support, life advice, a good gege to didi talk.” He plops down on his bed without really looking at anything in the room, including Chaoze. 

“Who?” 

Zhangjing whips around so fast he swears he hears his own neck pop. 

Lounging on Chaoze’s bed like he owns the damn place is Lin Yanjun, Zhangjing’s best friend and possibly the bane of his existence.

“Wang Ziyi,” says Chaoze before Zhangjing can come up with some clever lie. Zhangjing is oddly uncomfortable with Yanjun knowing about his talks with Ziyi, and their friendship in general. 

At the mention of Ziyi Yanjun sits up, suddenly interested. There’s a strange look on his face Zhangjing can’t quite decipher, but he’s used to that. “Say, Zhangjing,” he drawls slowly, and Zhangjing can nearly feel Yanjun’s deep voice in his own chest, “you’ve been getting really close with Ziyi lately, haven’t you?”

Zhangjing swallows thickly. Shit. 

“I’m close with everyone,” says Zhangjing in a voice he prays to god sounds similar to his usual teasing. His heart is racing and his palm are sweaty, but he keeps his face composed, both for his own sake and Ziyi’s. 

If the two of them are found out, Zhangjing doesn’t know what he would do. 

“Where is the lie, though?” Chaoze laughs loudly, clapping his hands together and unknowingly saving Zhangjing from a very uncomfortable situation. “Jing literally has everyone - including but not limited to the cast, the trainees and the fucking mentors wrapped around his little finger.”

“I think you’re confusing me with Zhenghao,” grumbles Zhangjing. “Besides, there are some people here I’ve literally never talked to. Xiao Gui, for example.”

They laugh, and Zhangjing relaxes, but only a little. 

It’s not that he  _ wants  _ to lie to his two best friends - he has to. He hates being guarded around them because, in the past, they were the people he would share anything with. Now he can’t. Perhaps this is why Zhangjing has started to treasure his time with Ziyi - the only one who could come even remotely close to understanding him. He knows Ziyi feels the same - the need to rant is sometimes too great for either of them. 

Because they both know it’s one slip up and everyone knows. 

He also knows Chaoze at least knows he’s hiding something. The kid - thank god - doesn’t pry, but Zhangjing feels fucking awful about it anyway. 

“Zhangjing,” says Yanjun, suddenly serious. Zhangjing holds his breath. “Will you help me practice for the stage?” 

“Sure, if you help me with the dance.”

They’ve been tackling performances like this for years. Yanjun usually learns dances quicker than Zhangjing, but Zhangjing has been singing for far longer. They help each other out, more often than not joined by Chaoze and the others. This system has always worked - only lately it’s become problematic. 

They bid farewell to Chaoze, who mumbles something about needing to talk to Justin about the choreography of the song. They walk to the old D classroom, which is the only currently not in use. 

“You go first,” says Zhangjing, quite pointedly not looking at Yanjun. “My dance will probably take longer than your vocals.” That might be true - Zhangjing has had to help people from both groups prepare for their performance, and he hasn’t gotten much time to practice his dance.    


No matter how much Zhangjing tries not to look at Yanjun, he notices him smile anyway. He sees, out of the corner of his eye, the deep dimples appearing in his cheeks, and the wrinkles appearing by his - normally so intense - eyes. 

Yanjun sings clearly. His voice rings clearly through the room, and it’s clean enough, if not a little on the soft side. That’s very Yanjun, though, because Yanjun never sings as sharply as any of the designated vocals Zhangjing knows. 

Personally, Zhangjing really enjoys listening to Yanjun sing. It’s very different from what he’s used to, even after hearing Yanjun sing for so long. His voice is gentle, kind and soothing - very unlike the image Yanjun likes to give people. 

“Right now I think it’d be hard to blend your voice in with the others, but we haven’t sung as a group yet, so that’s fine. Other than that, you just need to watch your expression a little more. I can’t tell if you want to kill someone or rip your shirt off.”

Yanjun throws his head back and laughs. It’s an open, genuine laugh that Zhangjing missed so much in the beginning of the show, and Zhangjing’s gut only twists a little. 

That’s the thing - Yanjun has been one of Zhangjing’s best friends for a while now, and Zhangjing has always known that Yanjun is handsome. It’s just that lately, Zhangjing has started to notice just  _ how  _ attractive he really is. He supposes it’s got something to do with the fact that he’s never seen Yanjun as confident as he is now, or that Yanjun is making friends without Zhangjing now, and that’s happened - well, never before. 

“Can I?”

“Eh?” It occurs to Zhangjing that he may have been zoned out a little, and that Yanjun has asked him a question, which he, naturally, did not hear. 

“Take my shirt off?”

Well, shit.

Yanjun’s looking at him with expectant eyes, like he actually needs permission or something, and suddenly Zhangjing feels like he’s overheating in his too-thick sweater. 

“Uh, sure?” he answers dumbly. His mind has gone completely blank, the only sound in his ears repeating alarms.  _ I need to get out of here,  _ Zhangjing thinks for a second which is absolute bullshit, because c’mon, he’s seen Yanjun shirtless countless times before - they were roommates, for fuck’s sake. 

But then Yanjun pulls his shirt over his head and- oh fuck, Zhangjing wasn’t ready. 

Yanjun throws his shirt in the corner of the room and turns to face Zhangjing, who lets his gaze travel down for a split second, just to see how much Yanjun has changed over these past few months. 

Zhangjing doesn’t know why, but he kind of expected Yanjun’s body to have changed along with his demeanor, but it hasn’t. It’s still overwhelmingly Lin Yanjun - just a little skinnier, but then he’s never been exactly Qin Fen or anything. 

“K, so what part of the dance don’t you get yet?” Yanjun asks, pulling Zhangjing back to reality once again. Zhangjing clears his throat. 

“Yeah, uh, Justin’s solo part.” It’s a part Zhangjing knows perfectly well, but it requires his concentration, and right now, Zhangjing really needs a distraction. 

Nothing like preparing for possibly your last performance on a big stage to do that, right?

* * *

 

Zhangjing has made a mistake. 

A fucking stupid one, at that. 

He really, really,  _ really  _ shouldn’t have chosen Justin’s part to practice. He really couldn’t have chosen a worse part, actually. 

To be fair, maybe he should’ve accounted for the fact that Yanjun is shirtless, but then his brain kind of stopped working when that fucking shirt hit the floor. 

“You’re still too slow!” Yanjun yells over the music, but he’s smiling, as if he knows how much Zhangjing is truly suffering. 

To be honest, Zhangjing hasn’t really been able to concentrate on the beat or any of that nonsense for a while now, because everything about Yanjun is  _ distracting,  _ from the little moles that dot randomly on his midriff, to the fine lines of muscle carved into his chest, and the boyish, childish looks Zhangjing has spent so long getting familiar with, but that are now completely strange to him. 

“What if you’re just teaching it to me too fast?” Zhangjing growls back. He’s out of breath, probably incredibly red in the face - he can’t really tell from the mirror - his shirt is sticking to his back and he feels gross. 

Yanjun just grins devilishly - the fucking bastard - and slowly approaches Zhangjing, only to crouch down next to him. He looks almost predatorial like this, and Zhangjing takes a deep breath to steady himself. 

“You wanna bet?”

The dangerous lilt to Yanjun’s voice sends shivers down Zhangjing’s spine, making his hairs stand on ends and setting him on edge. Zhangjing, however, is fucking stubborn and holds Yanjun’s unwavering gaze until his heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest and his face is aflame. 

“You’re such a bully,” Zhangjing says, maybe a little too breathlessly. He attempts to cover it up by pushing Yanjun off balance, but that backfires too, because Yanjun is strong and catches Zhangjing’s wrist just before he falls, pulling him down and flipping him onto his back.

Zhangjing yelps and glares up at Yanjun, who grins and grabs Zhangjing’s other wrist. Zhangjing wiggles and squirms, but Yanjun has him completely pinned to the floor. 

“Let me go, asshole!” Zhangjing says, but he’s laughing - bursts of giggles rip from his chest against his will. Yanjun’s laughing too, the clear sound filling the room. Zhangjing laughs until his sides hurt, his eyes squeezed shut and his breath coming in shallow gasps. His chest is filled with air - blissfully light. 

And then he opens his eyes, and the moment is gone. Yanjun is leaning over him, that strange look on his face again, the corners of his mouth tugged down just a little, and suddenly Zhangjing is  _ very _ aware of where he is, and Yanjun’s weight on top of him. 

Silence stretches between them, only broken by their rapid, laboured breathing. Zhangjing flexes for a split second to see just where all of Yanjun is. 

_ Fuck.  _

Yanjun has him trapped. His wrists are pinned under Yanjun’s rough hands, by the sides of his face, and his waist is trapped by Yanjun’s thighs. Yanjun is still shirtless, and his muscles ripple with every breath he takes. The heat of practice is still evident on Yanjun’s prominent collarbones - red blooms over skin, creeping up just slightly to his neck. 

Zhangjing’s heart feels like it’s going to burst out from his chest, and his breath is shallow and rapid and far too erratic, and all that Zhangjing can think is  _ fuck, fuck, fuck! _

Zhangjing feels his body grow restless, He knows his face is blazed red, and his wrists brun where Yanjun’s fingers are wrapped around them. If he doesn’t get out of here soon, Yanjun will definitely find everything out. 

“Uh-” Zhangjing begins, but a loud, obnoxious loud cough from the corner of the room cuts him off. 

“Ahem. Zhangjing?”

Without looking who’s there, Zhangjing uses Yanjun’s distractedness to push him off, and he leaps to his feet, immediately turning on his heel to face the intruder, a lame excuse already on his tongue. 

Wang Ziyi - Zhangjing really needs to appreciate this kid more - stands by the door awkwardly, an apple clutched in his hand. He looks incredibly confused - if not, a little angry. He shuffles his feet and clears his throat before speaking again. 

“I-uh… I thought you might still be hungry,” Ziyi says, his gaze drifting as Yanjun walks to retrieve his shirt. He then throws a meaningful look in Zhangjing’s direction - there’s no way for even Yanjun to have missed it. Normally Zhangjing would be annoyed, but right now he just really wants to get out of here.

“Right!” says Zhangjing awkwardly, not willing to look at Yanjun anymore. He forces himself to do it anyway, and he sees the sudden apprehension in Yanjun’s eyes. “Thanks for helping me practice, Yanjun. I’ll be going with Ziyi now.”

Without another word, and before Yanjun has time to respond, Zhangjing walks briskly to the door and drags Ziyi out after him, ignoring his startled yelp. 

Zhangjing keeps walking, embarrassment burning in his veins and strange disappointment heavy in his heart. Ziyi keeps pace with him easily and stays silent as the practically run up the stairs, which Zhangjing is thankful for. 

Only when they reach their window on the top floor does Ziyi open his mouth. 

“Ge, what the fuck?!” Ziyi shoves Zhangjing against the wall - it hurts, but not much - and crowds in his space, fitting them both into the corner with seemingly effortless ease. Zhangjing has to crane his neck to look up at Zhangjing like this, but he guesses that’s kind of the point. Ziyi looks furious, after all. 

“What?!”

That’s the thing - Zhangjing is angry too. Not at Ziyi, or Yanjun, but himself, for letting Yanjun get so close, for being so affected by  _ everything  _ Yanjun does. 

“What the hell was that?”

Zhangjing looks away, out the windows and into the fancy lights of the mansion. 

“It’s nothing. We’re just friends,” he says after a long moment. Ziyi scoffs. 

“Does  _ he  _ know that? Do you?”

“He doesn’t know shit, and he never will. The rest doesn’t matter,” Zhangjing mutters, and even though his gut twists horribly, he knows it’s true. Zhangjing genuinely doesn’t know how Yanjun - likely the straightest boy in this mansion - would react. And if there’s even the slightest chance of Lin Yanjun rejecting who You Zhangjing is, then Zhangjing would never take that chance.

Zhangjing would rather live his life miserable and stuck in the fucking closet than losing either Yanjun or Chaoze’s friendships. It’s just that Zhangjing is more confident in his relationship with Chaoze. 

“‘Don’t fall for a straight unless you want to go through hell’,” Ziyi recites, and  _ fuck,  _ Zhangjing really can’t deal with this shit right now. “Shouldn’t you be taking your own advice?”

“Why do you think I gave it to you in the first place,” Zhangjing hisses. It’s true - Zhangjing, back in highschool, made the mistake of liking a straight. It was the most awful thing. “Ziyi, don’t make the same mistakes as me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Ziyi leans back, finally giving Zhangjing a tiny bit of space to breathe. 

“You’re a fucking hypocrite,” Ziyi says with an unimpressed huff. 

  
Oh, Zhangjing  _ knows.  _


	2. Chapter 2

There's a silent agreement between Ziyi and Zhangjing after that night. Despite bing in different groups for the last stage, they seek each other out as much as possible, pulling each other away from distractions and possible mishaps. 

If Yanjun - or anyone else - notices, they don't mention it. Not even when Ziyi sits with his arm around Zhangjing's shoulder, positioning himself so nobody dares to talk to either of them, does Yanjun even look at Zhangjing with question. He just stares, his eyes glazed over. 

Immediately after practice Zhangjing will slip away, swiftly making his way to the space by the window, and Ziyi will be waiting for him there. They'll go for a walk, talk about irrelevant things and pretend they don't know exactly what they're doing. 

They're helping each other avoid Yanjun and Xukun, and with them, their feelings. Zhangjing hasn't spoken to Yanjun in days - excepting off-hand tips during practice. 

It hurts, but Zhangjing knows if he keeps seeing Yanjun the way he does, all of this could spiral more out of control than it already has. That night certainly taught him that. At some point, Zhangjing's feelings have developed from and innocent liking - an appreciation of Yanjun's looks - to something more... dangerous - and he needs to put a stop to it as soon as possible. He even avoids looking at Yanjun if he can, because he knows that if he looks, he'll be drawn in and he won't be able to tear his gaze away. 

Even so, the guilt that Zhangjing feels whenever he sees Yanjun is nearly too much to bear. He hasn't seen Yanjun smile in days, and he fears it may affect his performance when they time comes. The last thing he wants to do is hurt Yanjun, really. They've been friends for years, and if Yanjun finds out, he'll be infinitely more angry and upset than he might be now. That's what Zhangjing keeps telling himself, but still Ziyi has to remind him almost every afternoon why they're doing this. He feels dirty and rotten for keeping something like this from someone who has told him all his secrets, but it's necessary - right?

It's slowly driving Zhangjing insane - to be keeping this hidden. He's lost his appetite nearly entirely, because he used to eat with Yanjun, but now he doesn't. He doesn't feel like showering, because he won't be bickering with Chaoze and Yanjun about bathing time. His normal, witty remarks are slow now, because nobody responds as fast as Yanjun does. It's only been a few days, but it's like that awful year again. 

Now they're sitting in the middle of one of the big classrooms, together with Xiao Gui, Justin and Ruibin. Ziyi's head is in Zhangjing's lap, and Zhangjing has his fingers wrapped in the tangles of Ziyi's hair. It's quite comfortable like this - discussing the issues of rhythm and such after a tiring day of practice, while the others are still going over the dance. 

That is, until Xiao Gui frowns and leans over to whisper something in Justin's ear. 

"Ziyi-ge?" Justin quips, draping himself dramatically over Ruibin's shoulder. "Are you avoiding Kun-ge?"

Zhangjing feels Ziyi go completely tense, and he holds his breath. 

It's been quite difficult for Ziyi to avoid Xukun. Where Zhangjing has Chaoze and quite a few others he's quite close with, sometimes it seems like Xukun and Ziyi only have each other. They're both quite popular, of course, but there's this strange exclusiveness about them that has been proven difficult to get rid of. Personally, Zhangjing thinks Xukun and Ziyi have grown far too emotionally dependent on each other. 

They're standing in dangerous territory now. One slip up and everyone finds out, right? Zhangjing's heart races in his chest, and he lets out a slow breath, attempting to calm himself down. He might still be in the safe zone now, but he's dangerously close to the edge. 

"Uh..." Ziyi says slowly. "No."

Zhangjing can immediately tell that none of the others believe Ziyi, so he decides to step in. "Ziyi is scared he won't debut, so he's decided to put some distance between him and Kunkun."

"And he's doing that by getting close to you?" Ruibin asks. Zhangjing's breath hitches, because they're all looking at him so skeptically and he doesn't feel safe anymore, oh shit. 

All he can hear is his blood rushing in his ears, a long, dull drone, and his heartbeat vibrates painfully in his chest, his breath turning shallow as he realizes,  _fuck,_ they're too close to finding everything out. 

Everything's he's ever dreamed for, all his hard work - his life - could be ruined by one slip up. He can already see it - the headlines, screaming awful slurs at him and Zhang PD standing on that podium, a sullen expression on his face, announcing that Zhangjing has left the show to the remaining twenty trainees, just like he did with the four before him. And then his parents would welcome him home, console him, but they'd be disappointed their son turned out like this. 

But most of all Zhangjing fears the disbelief, the unfamiliarity in the eyes of Lin Yanjun, the betrayal in his voice when he says "I thought I knew you", and the cold, closed-off walls Zhangjing spent so long getting past being put up again. He fears that people will connect the dots and link him to Ziyi, not only ruining his own career but Ziyi's as well. He would hate himself if Ziyi suffered because of his own faults. 

Zhangjing is vaguely aware of Ziyi saying something to Justin, but he can't make out what it is over the pounding in his ears. His hands tremble uncontrollably - he takes a deep breath, no air seems to fill his lungs and his vision blurs - with tears or out of lack of focus, he can't tell. His chest hurts, and he doesn't know how to fix it. Everything feels wrong - his skin tingles and his limbs prickle. 

Then warm hands close around his own and he's being pulled up under a strong arm. 

 _Breathe, man,_ Zhangjing tells himself. He's just being dumb - irrational. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood. Slowly, the room comes into focus again. 

"You okay there, ge?" Ruibin asks, a frown on his face. He reaches out to touch Zhangjing's shoulder, but Zhangjing flinches away. It's all too much - Zhangjing's thoughts are too loud and he just  _can't deal_ with it all. 

"I'm fine," he says, maybe a little too quickly. Xiao Gui raises a brow, but there's no judgement in his eyes - thank god. 

Only now does Zhangjing realize he's barely standing - Ziyi's arm is the only thing keeping him from crumpling to the floor in a disgraced mess in from of his youngers. 

"I was just thinking..." Zhangjing says slowly, racking his brain for a good lie, "the last elimination is so close. I'm on the very edge."

It's not exactly a lie - Zhangjing  _has_ been worried about this, quite a bit, but he knows that as long as he gives his all, he'll have no regrets at all. 

The others seem to buy into it. Xiao Gui flashes his carefree smile and Justin reaches over to squeeze Zhangjing's hand, while Ruibin presses his lips into a thin line. It's all oddly comforting, though none of them know what they're comforting him for. 

Wang Ziyi, the stupid, caring motherfucker, doesn't believe him. It's obvious. His brow is knitted together and his thumb rubs small circles into Zhangjing's shoulder, but Zhangjing ignores him, slipping out from under his grasp and sitting down to pick up the discussion where they left it. 

It proves difficult, however, and after thirty minutes Zhangjing excuses himself with fatigue as an excuse, worn down so thoroughly it hurts to stand. He couldn't concentrate on any of the things being said anymore, and he didn't want to be a nuisance, so he decided to leave. To his relief, Ziyi doesn't follow him out, and Zhangjing is left to navigate the halls on his own. 

It's quite late - most trainees are getting ready for bed, so it must be at least three in the morning. Zhangjing hasn't eaten dinner yet, but he's not particularly hungry, so he decides to head straight to the showers and then to bed. 

His feet drag over the floor as he shuffles to his room, all energy drained from his system. He feels weak, vulnerable and overall, pathetic. 

He passes Bi Wenjun's room, which used to be so lively with Ding Zeren and Li Quanzhe running around, yelling at the top of their lungs. Wenjun waves at him now, and he smiles, but the corners of his mouth don't really reach his eyes anymore - it's an exhausted, polite smile, without any real happiness. 

Zhangjing's legs feel weak. His - let's call it a moment - from earlier has worn him out, and now his whole body shakes with the effort to keep upright. He stumbles, but catches himself against the wall. He feels bile rise in his throat, but he swallows it back down. He's a mess on the verge of panicking again. 

Deep breaths - in through the nose, out through the mouth. It's not working. Zhangjing whimpers, but jut barely. 

"Zhangjing?"

Linong appears in the doorway of one of the room - presumably his own - the pleasant smile on his face melting away as soon as he sees Zhangjing trembling pathetically against the wall. 

"Are you alright?"

Nongnong's voice is gentle - not overly concerned - and suddenly Zhangjing feels like crying, but he doesn't, because he's sick of feeling like shit. 

"Can you walk?" Nongnong asks, already reaching forward to help Zhangjing. Zhangjing feels miserable as he fights the tears down, being lowered so far to have to have a junior pick up the scraps of him off the floor - all this because he's too afraid of being outed. What a fucking coward. 

In response, though, Zhangjing can only stumble forward, his stupid feet getting caught on nothing at all. The only thing that stops Zhangjing's fall is Nongnong's quick reaction, and he groans as the room swims. 

Strangely enough, Nongnong doesn't seem all that surprised about this - incredibly embarrassing - situation. "Let's get you to bed, alright? My room's closer."

Zhangjing can only nod and let Nongnong half-drag half-carry him to the room, which really isn't too far, but seems like miles away. He's truly at his limit - emotionally and physically. He has no quirky joke or witty comment to say to Nongnong and his body just won't move right. 

So all he can do is be carried like he doesn't know how to walk, into the room Zhangjing has wanted to avoid most of all. His head fills with dread, but there's nothing he can do about it now. 

Sure enough, as soon as Zhangjing locks eyes with Yanjun - who jumps up immediately when he sees Zhangjing - Zhangjing feels tears prickle in his eyes again, but he blinks them away. He knows Yanjun will be able to see past the fragile mask Zhangjing has put on immediately, but there's something infinitely embarrassing about breaking down upon sight of one's best friend. Zhangjing's pride has already been hurt enough. 

"I think he had a panic attack," says Linong, adjusting his grip on Zhangjing's quivering body. Zhangjing doesn't know how Linong figured it out, but he decides it doesn't matter. 

"Fucking idiot," Yanjun mutters, but he reaches forward and grabs onto Zhangjing's hand, pulling him away from Linong. Yanjun's skin is cold against Zhangjing's, but as Yanjun pulls Zhangjing down next to him on the bed, thighs pressing together and hands clasped tight, Zhangjing feels warmth return to his cheeks, though he never noticed it leave in the first place. 

"Sorry," says Zhangjing quietly, but he doesn't know what for. Yanjun scoffs and slaps his thigh lightly. Zhangjing keeps his gaze fixed on their interlocked hand in Yanjun's lap. 

"You should be!" There's no blame or malice in Yanjun's voice, but Zhangjing lets himself wallow in shame anyway. "I don't get to talk to you for a few days and you get yourself into shit like this." Zhangjing can tell from his voice than Yanjun is smiling - trying to make him feel better. It's not working. "You got some serious dependency issues there, bro."

"Yanjun, stop," Linong interjects. Zhangjing shuffles his feet together. "I walked past his practice room, and it was pretty bad. It's a good Ziyi-ge was there to help."

Yanjun turns serious - quiet - after that. He doesn't say anything at all. 

Zhangjing feels himself grow dazed in the quiet, like he's dreaming or something - he must truly be exhausted, he can't really tell. It's like he's slowly being lulled to sleep by the soothing circles Yanjun is rubbing into his palm distractedly. 

"Just promise me you'll talk to me, too," Yanjun says finally, and there's a strange strain in his voice that breaks Zhangjing's heart. Shame and guilt wash over Zhangjing again, because  _he's_ the one who made Yanjun feel like this. Yanjun suffers because Zhangjing is too selfish to attempt to properly hide his feelings. 

His mind wanders, for a moment, to Cai Xukun, and how he must've felt as Zhangjing kept Ziyi away from him. Was he worried? Was he sad? Did he feel Ziyi no longer wanted to be his friend, or did he suspect something else was going on? Zhangjing hasn't seen the kid in a while, and Ziyi never mentioned anything strange about him, so maybe he was fine. Zhangjing can't decide if that's better or worse. 

Zhangjing has been so selfishly caught up in his own feelings, wallowing in self-pity for days, refusing to see the one person who needs him most of all, dragging in far too many into his personal problems, hurting the ones he'd taken upon himself to protect. Yanjun, despite his careless demeanor and cold appearance, is actually quite an insecure child and Zhangjing  _knows_ that - and still he chose to distance himself. 

"Of course," is all he says. "I'm sorry."

There are so many things left unsaid - things Zhangjing wants to say and things he doesn't - but Yanjun doesn't pry. Zhangjing can tell, though, that Yanjun desperately wants to know what's been going on. It only goes to make Zhangjing feel even worse, because no matter how much he may want to, there are some things he just cannot say. He knows Yanjun wouldn't believe him if he said he was just scared of the eliminations - they know each other far too well, and Yanjun is far too smart - so Zhangjing doesn't lie. 

They stay silent for a long time, fingers intertwined tightly and knees pressed snug together. It's a peaceful, comforting silence, but Zhangjing still doesn't even dare meet Yanjun's gaze. 

Even so, just sitting here, on the edge of the empty bed, puts Zhangjing heart at ease, even if it's just a little. Normally Zhangjing wouldn't look to someone  _like_ Yanjun for comfort, but they've grown so close over the years that it feels so natural now. Yanjun, just as he is, never ceases to put Zhangjing at ease. 

Which is exactly why Zhangjing needs to get out of here. Again. 

"I should probably go to bed," Zhangjing says quietly, carefully disentangling his fingers from Yanjun's and standing up. Yanjun stays on the bed, but he catches Zhangjing's hand just as he turns to leave. 

"Walk with me after practice tomorrow?"

Zhangjing looks him in the eyes then, because Yanjun's voice is uncharacteristically gentle, and it scares him. What he finds looking back at him is a hopeful yet sad boy visibly worrying about his best friend. 

Zhangjing nods and turns to leave, feeling Yanjun's fingers leave his wrist. Linong has left the room, but Zhangjing never noticed. 

The halls are quiet when he leaves Yanjun's room - everyone's gone to bed already. Zhangjing quietly walks to his room and opens the door with as little sound as possible, not wanting to wake Chaoze. He doesn't bother washing up and merely strips down to his underwear before slipping into bed. 

* * *

 

The next day Zhangjing works harder than usual, just so that his team thinks he didn't spend most of the night thinking about Yanjun and his request to walk together after practice. 

Justin and Ruibin approach him during the first water break, asking him if he's alright, and Zhangjing can  _feel_ Xiao Gui carefully watching him the entire day. It doesn't annoy him - he's actually quite touched by the concern the others have for him. 

Then again, the high notes can't be sung if Zhangjing isn't in the right state of mind, so they might just be worried about that. Doesn't matter, anyway. 

He sits with Chaoze and Ziyi during lunch - Yanjun is nowhere to be seen, and Ziyi says Xukun's currently helping Zhenghao with the choreography. They talk awfully politely about their respective stages, and with time to spare, Ziyi and Zhangjing go upstairs to talk about their situations without actually having had time to eat.

"I can't hide anything from him," Zhangjing whines. Ziyi nods. "I feel if we keep going like this, he'll just figure things out quicker."

"Yeah," says Ziyi slowly and carefully. Zhangjing narrows his eyes. "Yesterday after practice Zhengting said that if I keep avoiding Kun then he'd-" Ziyi huffs out a breathless laugh, "-Kunkun would have to raise Haohao by himself."

"What?"

"Apparently the Yuehua kids have a whole family system set up with, like, all the trainees, and I'm Hao's mom."

Zhangjing's eyebrow shoots up. He takes one look at Ziyi's completely serious expression and bursts out laughing. Trust the Yuehua kids to come up with something like this. Ziyi just stares blankly at Zhangjing for a second - which just makes Zhangjing be overcome with a fresh wave of giggles - before his shoulders start to shake too and the corners of his mouth tug up. 

They laugh until they're clutching their sides and wiping tears from their eyes. 

Afternoon practice is easier than it's ever been, and Teacher Li Ronghao even praises Zhangjing's energy while he sings. To distract himself from the takeout Justin brings in during dinner Zhangjing keeps practicing, telling himself he'll eat an apple later.

"Zhangjing," Chaoze reprimands him later, after Zhangjing's growling stomach sounds loudly through the room, "you need to eat  _less,_ not nothing at all. We don't need another incident like Yanchen."

Zhangjing shifts awkwardly. Yanchen had been someone Zhangjing both admired and was terrified of being at the same time. His hard work and perseverance were next to none, but his unhealthy scheduling habits and the perhaps unintentional tendency to make others worry about him were - and still are - something Zhangjing knows not to follow. 

He can see Yanjun listening intently to their conversation, but the second the thought of lying cross Zhangjing's mind, he brushes them off. Both Chaoze and Yanjun would see straight through him, anyway. 

"I ate too much this morning, so I was planning to eat an apple with Ziyi later," he says. It's the partial truth. He didn't eat too much this morning, but still more than his diet allows. 

Zhangjing thinks he might be imagining it, but it seems as if Chaoze clenches his jaw at the mention of Ziyi, and his gaze wanders for a moment to Yanjun - as if they know something he doesn't - but Zhangjing pretends not to have seen. 

"Alright," Chaoze says, but Zhangjing isn't sure if Chaoze believes him

Nevertheless, he doesn't question him about it anymore, and the rest of practice goes smoothly, if not a little more tensely than before. Ziyi only comes to check in once, but they'd agreed to that during lunch. They eat, and Chaoze seems satisfied enough, even if Zhangjing is starting to feel a little nauseous. 

But then their last practice ends - with an emotional pep talk from Chaoze - at two in the morning. Ziyi is gone and Chaoze announces that he'll go shower, leaving Zhangjing an anxious bundle of nerves. Even so, when Yanjun calls his name, he follows him outside into the cold April night. 

Yanjun says nothing as he walks into the bleak park, so Zhangjing watches him carefully, nervous flutters disturbing his heart, looking for any sign of perhaps anger, discontent or sadness. Annoyingly, Yanjun's back is entirely stoic, and Zhangjing can't discern anything. 

"Are you cold?" Yanjun asks suddenly, without looking at Zhangjing. Okay, that is not what Zhangjing expected him to start the conversation with, but he'll work with it. 

"Yes," says Zhangjing bluntly. Even his thick winter coat isn't enough to keep the harsh cold from seeping in, and his uncovered hands are trembling horribly. 

Yanjun turns and faces Zhangjing, a soft, playful smile splayed on his lips. Zhangjing's eyebrows shoot up in surprise - he'd thought Yanjun would be all serious - but he doesn't complain. He'd take a happy Yanjun over anything else any day. 

"Then hold my hand," Yanjun says, his smile turning into a mischievous grin as he holds out his hand. Zhangjing rolls his eyes, despite the apparent gymnastics his heart is trying to do.

"That's not even a proper pick up line," he complain, but he takes Yanjun's hand anyway. "I'm honestly quite disappointed in you."

"My flirting skills go down after midnight," says Yanjun with a laugh, and Zhangjing smiles. They keep walking side by side, fingers intertwined, until they reach the bench where Ding Zeren and Zhou Yanchen used to sit during lunch. 

" _And_ you're taking me to someone else's spot? Wow, Yanjun," Zhangjing teases, attempting to sound like he used to. 

He also pretends not to be disappointed when Yanjun lets go of his hand, but then Yanjun stretches his hands up and lets one arm fall around Zhangjing's shoulder like the total fuckboy he is. 

"Seriously?" Zhangjing deadpans, but his heart feels like it's beating a thousand beats per minute, and Zhangjing silently thanks the heavens it's dark outside, because there's no doubt his entire face is red.  _This is nothing,_ Zhangjing tells himself,  _just Yanjun being Yanjun._

Ignoring Zhangjing's incredulity, Yanjun sighs dramatically. "Yeah, Zeren and Yanchen were a good example for us all," he says. "They were cute together."

"Wait, what?!"

Yanjun doesn't look the least bit surprised at Zhangjing's outburst - he just stares back, completely serious. "You didn't know?" he asks.

Zhangjing's mind, unbeknownst to Yanjun, is racing. If Yanjun is implying what Zhangjing thinks he's implying, and if he's so casual about it, could this Yanjun's fine with it? Zhangjing can't assume anything at all in this situation, but this could potentially mean it's safe to tell Yanjun at least the partial truth. Or would he figure things out from there? He could also assume Zhangjing and Ziyi are together, which wouldn't exactly be convenient either. And what if he tells the others? He wouldn't do that, right?

"Know what?" Zhangjing asks carefully. 

"That Zeren and Yanchen have been dating since Nunchucks?" Yanjun seems... happy - excited, even - talking about this. "Honestly, everyone was just surprised they never got caught on camera."

"Oh. That's... nice." Zhangjing honestly doesn't know what to say. He isn't processing anything anymore because Yanjun has his arm around him, and he's essentially saying  _it's fine._

Zhangjing doesn't want to hope. It could be that one of this "it's fine as long as you don't hit on me" guys, though Zhangjing doubts it. Even if that weren't the case, though, he's certain Yanjun wouldn't react the way Zhangjing wants him to react.

How  _does_ he want Yanjun to react? He can't really decide what's worse - to have Yanjun find out and cast him aside, or to have Yanjun know and still treat him the same. Zhangjing doesn't know if he could handle going back to how things were - not after this show. 

They're quiet again, but this time it's not an uncomfortable silence. Zhangjing, against his own better judgement, leans against Yanjun's shoulder, letting himself pretend that, just for a moment, they're people who haven't known each other for ages, sitting in a park of some small town where they would be accepted - somewhere in Europe, perhaps. 

Of course, Zhangjing knows Yanjun still wants to talk about something - it's not unlike Yanjun to want to spend time together but he's a curious boy, so he'll likely break soon. What he's going to ask, Zhangjing doesn't know, but he's got a few educated guesses. 

Yanjun wants to know why, after days of avoiding him, would Zhangjing suddenly show up, clearly coming down from a panic attack. He'll likely ask if Ziyi had anything to do with it, since they've been spending so much time together. He'll get angry, maybe even piece it all together - maybe he already has. 

"Was yesterday," Yanjun suddenly begins, and Zhangjing's stomach fills with dread, "about your weight?"

Zhangjing blanches. 

Okay. That's not where Zhangjing expected this conversation to go. To be honest, he didn't even think anyone would be paying attention to it this time, but it makes sense, especially with Yanjun. 

"No," he says, pulling away from Yanjun to look at his face properly, their hands remaining clasped together. "Well, yeah, but only partially. I don't know - it was just a whole lot of minor things added together, I guess."

"I get that," says Yanjun with a sigh, but his brow furrows even deeper, his gaze intense as his eyes travel over Zhangjing's face. Zhangjing shifts in his seat, almost uncomfortable with Yanjun's undivided attention. 

"Did I tell you about when I came back from Taiwan?" Yanjun asks, his thumb rubbing circles over the back of Zhangjing's hand. 

Zhangjing suppresses a shiver. Of course he remembers. 

Just before Yanjun's return had been Zhangjing's lowest point yet - the company diets were harsh, and the stress and pressure of being both the main vocal and trainee18's second oldest were starting to get to him. He's been training his ass of that whole year, to the detriment of his body. 

"I was expecting this energetic ge with some talent for singing to come assault me as soon as I stepped through the door. Instead I got you, bursting into tears because it was all too much. You looked like absolute shit - it seemed like you hadn't eaten in years. It was so scary."

"You got pissed at Chaoze," Zhangjing says with a smile that probably doesn't reach his eyes. 

"Yes, but that's not important," says Yanjun, deadly serious. He reaches up and grips the back of Zhangjing's neck, not noticing Zhangjing's breath hitches "What's important, is that I never want to see you like that again. Just- please, don't make me go through that again."

Yanjun's voice is rough, and Zhangjing remembers the guilt when came to him, seething, demanding why he was doing this to himself. It's not something Zhangjing would like to experience again. 

"Lin Yanjun," says Zhangjing, forcing a smile onto his face and reaching up to wrap his fingers around Yanjun's wrist. "I am fine."

Relief flashes across Yanjun's face, and he lets his head fall forward. For a horrible second Zhangjing thinks he might be crying, but then Yanjun looks up, with that stupidly attractive, cocky grin on his face. 

"Yes, you are," says Yanjun with a wink. Zhangjing scoffs, because that was fucking awful, and attempts to push him away, but Yanjun latches on, pulling him close. 

"Still got it," says Yanjun as he slings an arm over Zhangjing's shoulders again. 

"You never had it in the first place," grumbles Zhangjing, but he lets himself melt into Yanjun's touch. Even when Yanjun strokes the top of his head with elegant fingers, he doesn't flinch away. It feels natural - they used to sit like this all the time, with the other members of the group. Zhangjing is far too tired to be thinking about being this close to Yanjun. 

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" Zhangjing asks. He stands and helps Yanjun from the bench. Tomorrow is their final stage - the day they'll announce the top nine. 

"Yes," says Yanjun, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You?"

"Not really. We got so much time to prepare this time, and I think most positions have kind of been established already."

Yanjun nods, but he stays quiet. It occurs to Zhangjing - maybe a little too late - that Yanjun's position has been far less stable than Zhangjing's. Zhangjing has been in the higher ranks since the earlier votings, so he'll be satisfied even if he doesn't get in. It might be completely different for Yanjun. 

He doesn't say anything, though, and so they arrive in front of Yanjun's door far sooner than Zhangjing would've liked. 

"In case we don't see each other before the performance," says Yanjun quietly. He's avoiding Zhangjing's gaze, which is unusual, but he holds his arms out and Zhangjing completely forgets about it. 

Zhangjing lets himself stand here, his nose brushing over the crook of Yanjun's neck, relishing in the feeling Yanjun's arms wrapped around his shoulder. His heart races and stomach clenches uncomfortably, but he doesn't care.

The moment is over too soon, and Yanjun still avoids his gaze when they bid each other goodnight. 

Zhangjing showers quickly and changes into his pajamas, but he knows he won't sleep much. There's just too much to think about. 

Tomorrow he'll either have made his dream a reality or not. Zhangjing isn't as worried about that anymore. Either way, he has been recognized a fully competent singer by millions of voters, Li Ronghao and Zhang PD himself, and he is fully satisfied with that. 

What does eat at his nerves is what Yanjun said today. Were Zeren and Yanchen really together? And everyone was fine that? More importantly, was Yanjun? If he was, there's essentially no reason for him to keep this secret from Yanjun anymore. Sure, Yanjun might be upset that Zhangjing kept this secret for so long, but eventually he'd understand. And surely Yanjun wouldn't think Zhangjing is interested in him, right?

Right?

Zhangjing sighs and rolls onto his back, staring at the top bunk. 

Yanjun can be incredibly stupid sometimes, but he  _knows_ Zhangjing. He'll figure things out quickly enough.  And any sane person would be a little weirded out if their best friend has the total hots for them. 

And yet...

Zhangjing  _knows_ Yanjun is straight, but the way he was acting today might suggest Yanjun wouldn't if he knew Zhangjing liked him. 

Zhangjing shakes the thought off with a scoff. Of fucking course he would mind. They've been best friends for years - they've been through too much shit together, have helped each other through too much - they've even  _lived_ together, for fuck's sake! What if Yanjun thinks it was all just a ploy to get into his pants?

No, it's probably better to see what other signs Yanjun will show. 

The thing is, with the debut literally less than twelve hours away, Zhangjing isn't sure how much time he still has left with Yanjun. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drama, bitch

They make it.

They  _actually_ make it. 

The live show goes by in a bit of a blur. They're all stable throughout the performances, and Zhangjing feels a surge of pride when his eliminated friends slay the stage along with him. 

After the broadcast is over, Zhangjing wants to look for Ziyi, but he's swept away by his own company for a party at a separate venue. All of trainee18 is there, as well as several other trainees and ever a few debuted artists. Zhangjing and Yanjun must've shaken dozens of hands by now - Zhangjing's cheeks are starting to ache from smiling so much, but he really doesn't mind. His parents are here too - his mother's been crying all night, but they leave early. 

Overall, he really couldn't be happier. 

"Ge!" Zhangjing hears before his vision is obscured by a mess of brown hair, and a lanky body nearly aggressively slams into his own. 

"Dinghao!" Zhangjing yelps, more in surprise than anything else. He hasn't talked to Dinghao at all today, though he did see him talking to Chaoze at one point. Dinghao pulls away, and Zhangjing marvels at how much he's changed. 

Dinghao had been slowly building confidence throughout the show, but Zhangjing had feared he'd lose all that after the eliminations - after all, Dinghao always has been quite sensitive, and Zhnagjing can only imagine that an elimination can be quite a blow to one's self esteem. 

The DInghao in front of him now is positively  _glowing,_ his smile practically splitting his face. He radiates confidence, and Zhangjing couldn't be more proud. The very manner with which Dinghao carries himself has changed, and as the night progresses, Zhangjing even catches Dinghao winking at some of the female trainees, who giggle and shy away. 

At some point, someone hands Zhangjing a glass of champagne - he downs it, doubting his ability to stay awake if he's not at least a little buzzed. 

Chaoze keeps saying he's happy, but Zhangjing can tell he's upset. They don't really get to talk though, through all the people moving to congratulate Zhangjing and to console Chaoze. 

Zhangjing feels like he's about to fall over by the time Yanjun finally taps on his shoulder. Three performances in one night is already quite exhausting, and that added on top of the absolute torture inflicted upon him when Zhang PD was announcing ninth place has taken quite a toll on him. 

Still, Yanjun's dimpled smile is quite dazzling, and suddenly Zhangjing doesn't feel tired at all anymore. He can tell Yanjun's had a bit to drink - his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink and his speech slurs a little when he speaks. Yanjun could never hold his alcohol well, anyway. 

Yanjun pulls him outside, out onto the deserted street, but they don't go too far. It's late enough for the others to be too preoccupied to notice them leave, but Zhangjing estimates they don't have long. 

Yanjun spread his arms wide, his eyes sparkling with glee, that shit-eating grin on his face that Zhangjing loves so much, and yells "We made it!" at the top of his lungs. Zhangjing's embarrassed giggles turn into squeals when Yanjun ducks down and wraps his arms around Zhangjing's waist, resting his forehead on Zhangjing's shoulder. The angle is slightly awkward - Yanjun is far too tall, so he has to lean all the way down. 

In a surge of courage or stupidity, Zhangjing kisses Yanjun's cheek - just by the curve of his jaw - for a second before pulling away again. Okay, he may have had a little more than one glass of champagne, too. That's fine, though, because Yanjun's resulting giggles are  _adorable._

"'m really glad we get to stay together," murmurs Yanjun against Zhangjing's shoulder. "I was scared I'd be up there alone."

Zhangjing hums, his hand coming up to rest in Yanjun's brittle, bleached hair as Yanjun bunches the back of his jacket in his fists. Even through his slightly intoxicated state, Yanjun manages to sound suggestive, deliberate and borderline flirty. 

"Would you have been happy if Chaoze came up there?" The question slips past Zhangjing's lips before he has time to think about it. He regrets it instantly when Yanjun pulls away, that peculiar expression on his face again. 

"Of course," says Yanjun quietly, a frown forming on his stupidly perfect face, his voice suddenly low. It sends ripples over Zhangjing's body. "But he isn't you."

Only now does Zhangjing realize just how close Yanjun is. While Zhangjing has dropped his hands down to his sides, Yanjun has his hands on Zhangjing's hips, flexing and gripping on with near desperation. Their hips are almost touching - the fabric of Yanjun's jacket tangles with Zhangjing's. Yanjun's breath ghosts over Zhangjing's lips, and if Zhangjing were to look up and lean forward just a little, they'd be kissing. 

He could do it - close the minuscule distance between them just for a second, call it an accident, blame it on the alcohol. Yanjun would laugh it off, maybe clap Zhangjing on the back, but he wouldn't be angry. Zhangjing wants to do it - just for a second, feel Yanjun's lips on his own. But he doesn't, because the moment he moves his gaze from Yanjun's lips - he has no idea when he'd started looking at them - to his his eyes, he is completely locked in place. 

Yanjun's eyes always have been intense, but this - this is something else. They're dark and dangerous, the way they can only be on stage, but there's something else behind them now. Something that makes Zhangjing feels as he's been set aflame. His limbs tingle and his skin crawls, and all Zhangjing can think is  _this is what he can do with just his eyes._

Imagine what he can do with everything else. 

And Yanjun doesn't pull away either - he just keeps Zhangjing frozen in place, hands firm on his hips, lips one push away from Zhangjing's, and with  _that_ look in his eyes. 

Zhangjing's heart races and his cheeks are no doubt flushed, but he pays no mind to it at all. He's here, close to Yanjun, on the brink of what will probably be the biggest adventure of his life, and he just wishes he could stop time - wishing this moment would never end. 

But then the moment  _does_ end, because the door to the venue opens and they fly apart. Bei Honglin stumbles out, clearly drunk and completely oblivious to the situation. 

"Lin Yanjun!" Honglin bellows, and Zhangjing is forced to what as Yanjun's face lights up before being dragged inside again by an excitedly blabbering Honglin. He's left by himself, in the surprisingly cold air, his head a total mess. 

He racks his brains for an explanation - any at all - which explain what just happened as a completely straight thing. If Yanjun did this to Linong, would Zhangjing think Yanjun was interested in Linong? Yanjun is a clingy person when he's drunk, so Zhangjing can excuse the proximity, but the  _look._ And even then, Zhangjing had thought the look in Yanjun's eyes might've been an accident, just because of the space - or lack thereof - between them, but then Yanjun had  _kept_ staring at him and standing  _so_ close to him. 

Zhangjing yawns, but his brain is nowhere near being done. 

He knows what Yanjun is like when he's drunk. He also knows what Yanjun acts like when there's a girl he's particularly interested in around. He's not saying what happened just now was the same as the intense stares Yanjun gives those girls, but it was definitely... similar. There was something just slightly different about it that Zhangjing has never seen before. 

He feels bad, too. Yanjun is doing all of this without the knowledge of Zhangjing's sexuality. Zhangjing kind of feels like he's cheating - doing Yanjun wrong - by not telling him. It's like Yanjun is getting into something without knowing all the sides to it. He doesn't want to lose Yanjun, but he also doesn't want Yanjun to find everything out from Zhangjing popping a boner - which he will, if Yanjun keeps going like this. Besides, Zhangjing is fairly certain now that Yanjun won't push him away - it'd be an incredibly stupid thing to do, because they'll have to spend almost all their time together until their contracts end. 

Zhangjing sighs and starts to make his way to the dorms, suddenly far too tired to go back to the party. The venue the company rented is on the same premises as the show, so he doesn't have to walk very far, and the fans have been banned from wandering the grounds, so he doesn't worry about that either. 

Taking his time, filling his lungs completely before he sighs, Zhangjing forms a plan in his head. 

He's going to tell Yanjun.

Tomorrow. 

* * *

 

He doesn't see Yanjun or Ziyi until the party at night. The staff busies them with interviews and "recall moments", as they've named them. Zhangjing is paired up with Justin - he's rather glad he's paired up with Justin and not one of the eliminated trainees, but he really needs to speak with Ziyi about everything that happened yesterday. He wants Ziyi's adive on how to go about talking to Yanjun. 

On one side he wants to be talked out of this, and on the the other he wants to be encouraged. To be honest, Zhangjing has thought this through over and over again, and since last night a lot of doubt has started to fester in his mind. 

"Are you excited for the party?" Zhangjing asks Justin during one of their breaks. The staff announced a party meant to celebrate both the end of the show and the debuting nine - all ninety-seven trainees are invited, as well as their families and the staff. 

Justin snorts. "Duh," he says, stretching his legs out in front of him. They're sitting at the bottom of the staircase of the west wing, sipping banana milk and waiting for their next instruction. " I mean, with everyone there, it's gonna be fucking lit."

Zhangjing raises an eyebrow at him - Justin's become a lot more casual since, like, yesterday. Zhangjing doesn't mind though - he'd rather Justin be comfortable around him than have him treat his gege's like they're holy beings. Justin giggles sheepishly, and Zhangjing smiles. 

"And now that you're debuting together," Justin babbles on, "you can stop avoiding Yanjun-ge, too!"

Zhangjing chokes. "Where'd you get that from?" he manages to say between heaves and coughs. 

"Well, Ziyi-ge was doing that with Kun-ge, wasn't he? I just figured the reason you two suddenly got so close was for the same reason."

Fuck. Justin is far too smart. He's off, but not by far and it's particularly terrifying. Still, the way Justin looks at him now, wide-eyed and innocent, tells Zhangjing he doesn't know anything. Perhaps he's still too young for it. 

Zhangjing only catches glimpses of Yanjun the entire day, but when they do lock eyes, this small, adorable little smile always makes its way onto Yanjun's lips. Does he remember yesterday at all? Surely he does - he didn't have  _that_ much to drink, did he? Zhangjing had expected Yanjun to be at least a little awkward, but then again, these past few weeks it seems Yanjun has gotten a habit of surprising him.

Nongnong seeks him out at the end of the day, insisting they get ready for the party together. Zhangjing is happy to comply, of course, and they chat merrily about what they hope their fans will think of them, and then their dorms. 

"Do you think they'll put us in one dorm, or do we go by company?" Nongnong asks as the staff-lady begins on his eye makeup. Zhangjing frowns. 

"I don't know," he says.

"Either way, you'll end up rooming with Yanjun-ge."

Zhangjing laughs. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, you're from the same company, and you're the two oldest. Besides, the two of you are obviously really close. It would be a crime to separate you."

Zhangjing is glad his entire face is covered in makeup, because he blushes. Rooming with Yanjun seems like the worst  _and_ the best idea. The worst because Zhangjing will have countless opportunities to embarrass himself, and the best because... well, Zhangjing is well aware of Yanjun's utter disgust of shirts when he sleeps. Of course, Zhangjing and Yanjun have been roommates for about two years total, but it's different now. 

"Yeah, I guess," Zhangjing replies softly. 

The party approaches too quickly. Zhangjing, sometime along the day, decided that because the party will be filled with opportunities to pull Yanjun away without anyone noticing, he'll tell him there. 

The party is being held in the three largest training rooms. Two of the rooms - the biggest ones - have been transformed into a nice place for eating, with tables with fancy silverware and crystal glasses. The third is equipped with large stereos and a podium for a DJ. It seems like most people have already arrived by the time Nongnong and Zhangjing make it upstairs - the halls are filled with loud laughter and overlapping conversations. 

Nongnong and Zhangjing don't bother with food. They head straight to the dance floor, where they know most of the trainees will be anyway. 

Music blasts loudly in the room, and sure enough, Zhangjing sees plenty of familiar faces as soon as he steps into the room, dancing excitedly without a care. He doesn't catch exactly what Nongnong says to him, but it sounds a lot like "I'm gonna go say hi to people". It doesn't matter anyway, because Zhangjing spots Ziyi a second before he spots Yanjun. 

He smiles at Yanjun, who smiles back, and then he makes his way to Ziyi, who is currently talking to the other members of BBT. As soon as Ziyi spots Zhangjing, he says something to his band members before running up to Zhangjing, a huge smile on his face that Zhangjing can't help but return. 

Ziyi envelopes him in a bone-crushing hug, and Zhangjing throws his head back to laugh as he feels hit feet leave the floor  for just a second. He hasn't seen Ziyi this happy in a while, and it warms his heart to see him smile so freely again. 

"Let's go get something to drink!" Ziyi says, leaning down to say it in Zhangjing's ear. Zhangjing nods. 

They make their way to the table with the drinks, and Ziyi snatches up two beers, handing one to Zhangjing. They're a bit further from the music here, so it's easier to hear each other, but not very. Zhangjing twists the cap off his bottle and takes a sip. He'll probably need to be pleasantly buzzed to talk to Yanjun later, anyway. 

"We made it!" Ziyi shouts over the music, sounding rather elated. 

"I'm proud of you!" Zhangjing says with a smile, and he takes a step back to give Ziyi a once-over. It's almost weird, seeing him in such normal clothes, after months of seeing him in uniform. The clothes are nice though - ripped jeans, a shirt and a black jacket. "You look good!"

Ziyi grins wolfishly. "So do you," he replies smoothly. "I'm sure I've already seen several jiejie's checking you out," he adds with a wink. 

Zhangjing blushes and slaps Ziyi's arm, but he's smiling. 

He tugs at Ziyi's arm, silently urging him to lean down, which he does. Zhangjing grips the front of Ziyi's jacket to steady himself as he leans over to whisper something in his ear. 

"Let's get out of here. I need to talk to you about something," he says. Thankfully, Ziyi gets the hint and keeps smiling, though Zhangjing can see the worry in his eyes. As Zhangjing pulls back he makes eye contact with Yanjun across the room. Yanjun has a distant look in his eyes, brow furrowed deeply. 

Zhangjing ignores him, for now. 

He doesn't take Ziyi to their spot. It feels wrong to tell him this there, somehow. Zhangjing can't really explain it. Instead he takes Ziyi to some empty dorm room -  the dorm rooms were the first place to have their cameras removed, and Zhangjing knows no trainees will be coming here, so he knows it's safe. 

Ziyi looks vaguely concerned when Zhangjing hesitates, though he hides it well. They don't sit - Zhangjing is too nervous. He rubs his palm together. They're sweaty. Ziyi opens his mouth to say something, but Zhangjing beats him to it. 

"I want to tell Yanjun. Tonight."

Ziyi stares at him, his eyebrows up. Seconds tick by, and Zhangjing's heart races. Ziyi opens his mouth, but then he closes it again and cocks his head to the side. It's driving Zhangjing nuts. 

"Are you sure?" Ziyi says - finally. 

"Yeah." Zhangjing sounds far more confident than he feels. 

"What if he- y'know..." Ziyi vaguely waves his hands in front of him, like he's swatting some invisible fly, but Zhangjing understands. He's fairly certain he's already though of whatever Ziyi can come up with regarding the situation.

"You didn't see him yesterday," says Zhangjing, shaking his head. He frowns. He's really not sure how to explain everything that happened yesterday, if he even has time to talk through it all. "I don't think he'll do that to me."

"What happened yesterday?" Ziyi asks immediately, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Zhangjing is honestly quite impressed Ziyi figured out something happened after the debuting nine were announced, so he doesn't answer right away. 

"I don't know... it was weird, and it was definitely not something that happens with a friend."

"So you think he's-" ZIyi hesitates. "-like us?" He sounds unsure, and Zhangjing doesn't blame him for that. He's been over every detail he remembers, though, and he just can't find any other explanation that fits."

"I don't know!" Zhangjing throws up his hands in frustration. "I just know he'll be fine with me being like this."

"Then tell him."

Ziyi says it so simply, so firmly, and that's really all the confirmation he needs. Maybe it's been true for some time now, maybe not, but at some point Zhangjing gave all his trust to Ziyi, and not to Yanjun. Everything about Yanjun is so uncertain, so volatile, but with Ziyi everything is stable.

"I'm glad you're my friend, Ziyi," says Zhangjing, reaching up to pat Ziyi's cheek in a moment of strange sentimentality. Ziyi smiles, but it's kind of sad, regretful. Zhangjing already knows what he's thinking about. "And I know you'll work things out with Xukun just fine."

Zhangjing doesn't let Ziyi respond, turning around and briskly walking out of the room. He walks back to the dance floor without hesitation, and he knows ZIyi is close behind him, cheering him on without words. It's comforting. 

He doesn't spot Yanjun immediately, but that's fine, because suddenly he's being flanked by two strong bodies that drag him off to the side. 

It's Yanchen and Zeren, sporting nearly identical glints in their eyes. Suddenly Zhangjing remembers what Yanjun said about the two of them being together. He wonders if they're happy. 

"You looking for Yanjun?" Yanchen asks, his face carefully void of emotion. 

_Oh no._

"Yeah?"

"You gonna tell him then?" Zeren asks, far less stoic than Yanchen. 

"W-What?" Zhangjing sputters. He's not entirely surprised, though. He knows they've already figured everything out. He can just tell from the way they look at him. Besides, it's easier to tell what someone is hiding if you're the same. "Does anyone else know?"

"No," Yanchen assures him, and Zhangjing lets out a relieved sigh, at which Zeren chuckles darkly. "Your secret's safe with us."

"Go get him, ge!" Zeren says, clapping Zhangjing on the back. Zhangjing smiles, but it feels awkward even to himself. Zeren and Yanchen smirk and push him into the crowd, and Zhangjing is left alone again, more than slightly confused. 

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. His heart flutters, but for once, it's a good kind of nervousness. 

His eye catches on someone, and he frowns. 

It's Xukun, surrounded by girls, quite obviously enjoying all the attention he's getting. For a moment, Zhangjing hopes Ziyi hasn't seen this yet, but he knows he has. 

After he's finished talking to Yanjun, Zhangjing will go comfort Ziyi. 

Right. Finding Yanjun. 

It doesn't take him long. 

It's like time slows down, and sound doesn't reach his ears anymore. The dancing, the music, the trainees - they all cease to exist, because they no longer matter. All Zhangjing can see, hear -  _feel_   - is Lin Yanjun, standing across the room. 

That's the thing about being roommates for two years. You pick up on little quirks that your best friend might have. Zhangjing knows, for example, that Yanjun will turn awfully stoic when he's nervous. That is, until he thinks no one is looking. When he thinks no one is looking, he'll keep licking his lips, he'll fidget and he won't sit still. On the rare occurrences that he cries, he'll frown, squeeze his eyes shut and the corners of his mouth will tug down. Zhangjing used to think Yanjun looked quite ugly when he cries - perhaps he still does, but Zhangjing feels so overwhelmed with affection when Yanjun cries these days. 

When you're roommates you'll go out together, to a nice club or to the movies. You'll pretend not to hear when your roommate fucks some pretty girl he brought home, you'll pretend not to her moan, and you'll pretend not to hear his soft grunts. 

Zhangjing has been Yanjun's wingman several times now - he's watched him flirt, say those awful pickup lines and make a fool of himself, and he knows the difference between teasing and wanting something more from someone. He's watches Yanjun go in with the intention to fuck - to have a good time - countless times now. He can recognize the stupid, self-satisfied look in Yanjun's eyes when he knows he's getting what he wants. 

It's the exact look Yanjun's giving some girl right now, as he leans over to whisper something in her ear. She giggles, nods, and takes Yanjun's hand, taking him off the dance floor. 

Zhangjing can only blame himself. 

 _He_ was the one who got his stupid hopes up. 

 _He_ was the one who was looking into things that weren't there. 

Zhangjing, who had  _dared_ to hope that Lin Yanjun could like him like that - that he could like  _men_ like that - is the only one to blame. 

Was he really so wrong to hope? After everything that happened yesterday, should he just not have thought? Is it really so bad to fall head over heels for one's best friend?

Apparently it is, because Zhangjing feels like throwing up, screaming, crying, dying - all at the same time. He feels disgusted at himself for feeling the way he does. 

He turns around, and there they are - Zeren and Yanchen, kissing slowly - lovingly - with stupid grins on their faces. They look so happy, and suddenly it's all too much. 

Zhangjing is running. Running while bumping into people whose faces he can't see, racing up the stairs - to his spot - tears stinging in his eyes. 

He's not surprised to find Ziyi already there, his eyes red from crying, a shocked then knowing look on his face. Zhangjing, realizes, with burning rage through his self-pity, that Cai Xukun did this to Ziyi. 

Without a word, Ziyi grabs his hand and drags him to the practice room on the top floor. 

"I've been so  _fucking_ stupid!" Zhangjing yells as soon as the door is closed, and he really is sobbing now, hot tears streaming down his face. His entire body shakes, and Ziyi doesn't look much better, with a pained - no, hurt - expression on his tear-stained face. "I-I don't know-" Zhangjing gets cut off, because Ziyi pulls him tight against his chest. 

"Ge." Ziyi sounds broken, and that fucking  _hurts._ "Ge, what do I do?"

Zhangjing shakes his head and wraps his arms around Ziyi's waist tighter, both hoping to provide comfort and seeking it. 

"Ge, I don't know if I can act as if everything is fine anymore," Ziyi murmurs miserably. Zhangjing pulls away and looks up at Ziyi's face. To have to see the person he's quite desperately in love with surrounded by girls must've been hard, and what Zhangjing is about to say may even be worse, but it has to be said. 

"We don't get to do that anymore!" he says, gripping onto the front of Ziyi's jacket, pushing down his own sadness to overcome ZIyi's. Ziyi sniffles. "From now on, we have to suck it up and pretend everything is fine, you got that? Shit doesn't work out for guys like us, so we have to deal with it - you got that, Ziyi?"

Ziyi is quiet for a moment, and Zhangjing swallows, wondering if he said the right thing. 

Then Ziyi's lips crash into his own, and he's being pushed backwards until his back hits the wall, hard. 

Ziyi is desperate, needy and messy, moaning against Zhangjing's mouth, hands gripping uselessly at his waist. Zhangjing lets him, because he wants -  _needs_ \- this. He groans into the kiss, pouring months of pent-up frustration into it as he reaches up to pull Ziyi's head closer. Ziyi complies, crowding into Zhangjing's space entirely, nipping at his lower lip. 

It feels good. 

And if Zhangjing closes his eyes - if he loses himself completely in the feeling of hands roaming his body, slipping under his shirt occasionally, and the feeling of full, soft lips moving frantically against his own - he can just pretend, just for a little while, that he's kissing someone else. 

He doesn't feel guilty about it - he knows Ziyi is picturing someone else, too. 

Zhangjing pushes away Ziyi's jacket, and Ziyi lets go of Zhangjing for a moment to slip it off, their lips never breaking apart. Ziyi moves with experience, his tongue expertly taking the lead, hands moving without hesitation. Zhangjing moans quietly, and Ziyi dips down for a second, his hands hooking under Zhangjing thighs. 

It feels good. 

Zhangjing jumps up, wrapping his legs tightly around Ziyi's waist as Ziyi pins him to the wall.  _Fuck,_ if that doesn't turn him on. Ziyi breaks the kiss to mouth at Zhangjing's neck, and Zhangjing lets his head fall back against the wall, his fingers tangling in Ziyi's braids. Their muffled moans and the wet sounds of Ziyi's lips on Zhangjing's skin are the only sounds in the empty practice room. 

It feels good. 

He shouldn't be doing this - he knows. 

But sue him if he doesn't get to let go for  _once._

Ziyi feels good against him, nipping and licking at his sensitive neck, his strong arms holding Zhangjing firmly in place, delicious friction building up the pleasure in his lower abdomen. 

Then he hears the door open, and he pushes Ziyi away from him at lightning speed, gently landing on his feet and a hurried explanation - excuse, whatever - already on his tongue. 

The words die before they can ever leave his lips. 

There, hand still on the door handle, foot still forward - as if he's frozen in time - is Lin Yanjun. 

 

And there are tears in his eyes. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg its rlly hot here and it took me a WHILE to write this. 
> 
> comments are always appreciated ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which we have two whole idiots
> 
> (i wrote this while listening to i would by day6 on repeat pls send help)

They don't speak.

They haven't spoken in days. 

Not even when they moved back into the company dorm, only to find that Maotong had moved in with Honglin. Not when they were given instructions to learn all the Concept Evaluation songs before their first fanmeet. Not when the graduates of trainee18 invited them to train together. 

Ziyi and Nongnong come over, occasionally. At first it was just Ziyi, because Nongnong went to visit his family for a few days, but then the three of them started to eat the cafeteria food together, practice together, laugh together. 

Ziyi and Zhangjing haven't spoken about that night yet - they don't have to. There's a silent agreement between them. They were vulnerable, upset, desperate, and they never have to speak of it again. Frankly, Zhangjing doesn't really want to. 

Even with a task at hand, Zhangjing is bored out of his fucking mind. 

During the show, he was constantly compared to others, and everyone constantly set the bar higher, constantly set a new goal for him to reach. All he had to do was work harder, harder, and then harder still, and dread the next stage. That's all in theory, of course. 

Now he has to set those bars himself. Ziyi and Nongnong do help, but they're not around all the time, and the trainees of his own company are back to their vigorous training regimes. 

And Lin Yanjun hasn't spoken to him in four days. 

He won't even look Zhangjing in the eye. 

The others have noticed, too. They've met up at the Yuehua building a few times, and yesterday Xukun even went as far as pulling Zhangjing aside, asking what the hell was going on. 

"You two haven't spoken since the show, ge!" Xukun had whispered, his voice harsh and worried. They were standing in a dark hallway, just outside the practice room, but Zhangjing didn't have to look to know that someone - Linong or Zhengting, maybe - was trying to talk to Yanjun at that moment. "Talk to him - please, ge - before this affects both your performances."

Xukun left him feeling sick, standing in that hallway. 

Zhangjing's phone went off that night. Curious, he looked, though he was really starting to hate his phone. 

FROM: Ding Zeren

_I heard from Minghao and Chengcheng. Guess that talk didn't work out???_

Zhangjing never replied. 

He's fucking pissed. Lin Yanjun can stick his self-righteousness up his ass. 

What is not Lin Yanjun who said all those things - was it not him who did all those things - things say couldn't possibly be interpreted as platonic, or a 'friend' thing - giving Zhangjing  _hope,_ of all things unholy, only to eyefuck some random chick, and then act butt-hurt when Zhangjing reacts with less grace than a fucking angel?

Zhangjing is good at reading people - it's something he's always prided himself in - but he's not  _that_ good. 

He just wishes he knew what Yanjun wants from him. He's so, so tired of trying to figure it all out. 

These are just the kind of thoughts that plague him when he's lying on his back in the empty practice room, black dots dancing in front of his eyes, his breath coming in uneven, ragged gasps, and an unrelenting throbbing in his head. His ass aches, and when he sits up, the whole room starts to sway. 

Fuck. He must've fallen again. 

Or fainted - he doesn't know or care. 

 _I Will Always Remember_ is still echoing loudly through the room. Zhangjing has been practicing it since lunch, going at it without stop, trying to guide Nongnong through his part, and when Nongnong left, practicing his own, new part. It almost hurts to sing this song - the only ones left from the original team are he and Ziyi - which is why it's a perfect distraction. 

He has to carry the entire team this time. Not that there's not talented singers - Nongnong and Zhengting have talent, and Linkai and Chengcheng have been surprising him consistently - but this song needs experienced singers. It can't be done without proper technique. 

He stands up, ignoring the painful aches in his joints. Standing is risky, but he manages, and it's a lot easier to think once he's walked over and turned the music off. The silence is refreshing, yet deafening. 

He walks over to pick up his old water bottle off the floor, and sits down again right in front of the mirror. He looks tired without his makeup - that's one of many things Zhangjing can't wait to get back into. He could do without the constant cameras around, but the consistent structure in his life these past months has definitely been nice. 

He presses his legs out against the mirror, doing his cool-down stretches for the night. He nowhere close to being done though, because he still needs to do the rearrangement for the song. Xukun thought it was a good idea to split up the roles a little - which it is, but since Ziyi fit the concept for  _Listen to What I Say_ so well and he went to help Linkai with it, while Kun took  _Boom Boom Boom_ together with Zhengting, he's been kind of left to his own devices. He can't exactly ask Chaoze for help either, because Chaoze is already busy choreographing other shit as part of his training. Besides, that kid needs to rest. 

After stretching he picks up the broom in the corner of the room and starts practicing, no matter how tired his body may be. 

And if they find him there the next morning, curled up in the corner of the practice room, fast asleep, then that's not a problem at all. 

It's Dinghao who wakes him the next morning, and if he's worried at all he doesn't show it, which Zhangjing is incredibly grateful for. 

"Get up, ge," Dinghao says, though Zhangjing is already awake. He sits up, groaning at the stiffness of his muscles. "Come on," Dinghao continues," you gotta go to Yuehua." Right, they have another meeting this morning. 

Zhangjing's body screams in protest with every move, but he drags himself up and gets ready for the day, which includes covering up the nearly-faded hickeys on his neck. He doesn't bother with breakfast - there's simply no time, he tells himself. 

When he arrives down at the Banana Culture's lobby, Yanjun is already there, suddenly very interested in his phone, though Zhangjing knows he's starting to hate that thing too.  As Zhangjing turns away, he immediately feels Yanjun's scrutinizing gaze burning on his back, and he feels tempted to say something about it, but he doesn't, because that would mean having to face Yanjun, and he doesn't think he's ready for that. 

They sit on opposite sides of the car, and are silent the entire ride. 

They others are already in Yuehua's practice room when they arrive, sitting in a circle, laughing and talking comfortably. Zhangjing's gut twists a little, but he grins anyway, hugging every member before taking his place next to Zhengting. 

The other Yuehua boys are here too - Zeren, Wenjun, Quanzhe and Xinchun have made a habit of barging into practice whenever they can, just to say hi to their friends. Nobody has the heart to kick them out, and Zhangjing really enjoys the banter he and Wenjun still manage to keep up. 

"Alright, guys," says Xukun. He's been taking the lead quite naturally since they started, often assisted by Zhengting in controlling the Yuehua boys. He has good plans and works diligently, so none of the others have had any complaints. "Tell us how far you are."

"Well," says Ziyi. He looks comfortable talking to Xukun like this. Zhangjing is glad, because ZIyi isn't good at hiding his feelings, meaning he's probably not awkward or resentful to Kun. "Linkai and I finished line distribution for  _Listen to What I Say._ It's still up for debate, of course, but this is what we think is best for the group." Ziyi fits the concept for the song well, but Zhangjing still would've liked his back up on his own song. 

Xukun nods, thoughtful, and then he turns to Chengcheng and Minghao. 

"Ah, well," says Chengcheng, a little uncertain, " _Dream_ has an intense choreography, so we focused on how we're supposed to teach it. Zeren-ge said he would help." Zeren nods, clapping on Chengcheng's back encouragingly. 

" _Firewalking_ is going well, too," says Yanjun, and Zhangjing's skin crawls at the sound of his voice. He hasn't heard it in so long. He tries not to shift in on his spot. "We thought this song should be relatively easy to learn, because Linong and I have the most vocal parts already. We just need to distribute the lines."

" _Boom Boom Boom_ is going to be a challenge, because none of us know the song properly," says Zhengting. Zhangjing agrees. They're trying quite desperately to save the song, but their instructors have warned them they might have to drop it. 

"What about you, Zhangjing-ge?" Xukun asks. "They told you to make a new choreography yesterday, didn't they?"

Zhangjing smiles and nods, suddenly shy. "Yeah," he says, twiddling his thumbs together. "The old choreography only really works if you have the whole concept, so I tried to remake it yesterday."

"And how's that going?" Zhengting asks. Zhangjing can hear the worry in his voice. 

"Oh. I finished it last night."

"What?!" Minghao exclaims, his voice cracking. The others merely gape at Zhangjing, eyes wide and jaws slack, their disbelief evident. Zhangjing chuckles nervously. 

"How the fuck did you manage that?" Linkai asks, quite obviously impressed. 

"I don't know. Who needs sleep, anyway?" 

At that, Zeren's head snaps up, his eyes stormy and dangerous, but he isn't looking at Zhangjing. He's looking at Yanjun, and Zhangjing doesn't miss the anger in his gaze. Zeren is absolutely furious about something.

"Uh," Xukun says, seemingly a little taken aback. Zhangjing doesn't get what they all look so uncomfortable for - it's not like anyone was any different during the show. "Right, would you show us then?"

Zhangjing nods. 

He performs the entire song, including the singing, and by the end he's out of breath and sweaty, even though the choreography isn't that hard. The others look awed, yet there's concern in their eyes. Was it not good enough? At some point the Yuehua trainees left, except Zeren, who still has that dark look in his eyes. 

"I tried- tried to keep it simple, so we could... focus on all your vocals," says Zhangjing between gasps. He shaking, but he hides it by gripping onto the broom in his hands. When he moves to sit down, though, he stumbles. His knee hits the floor, hard. 

"Jing-ge!" Zhengting cries out, reaching forward, but Zhangjing waves him off. He crosses his legs and sits.

"I'm fine," he says, despite the throbbing in his knee and the pounding in his head. Zhengting scoots close anyway and rubs comforting circles on Zhangjing's back. 

"Did you have breakfast?" Ziyi asks. His face is serious, and Zhangjing immediately knows he won't be able to lie to him. He looks down at his hands in his lap, suddenly ashamed. He is supposed to be their main vocal and oldest, with a whole song as his sole responsibility, but his body couldn't even be assed to stay upright. 

"No, I didn't have time," mutters Zhangjing, but everyone hears him anyway, because they're all deadly quiet. 

Zhangjing feels the little ears on his arm stand on end, and when he looks up, Yanjun is staring right at him. 

And he doesn't look away. 

Of course - Yanjun is the only one who knows that Zhangjing hasn't eaten dinner, either. He knows Zhangjing hasn't come home for the past three days, spending all his time in the practice room. It's Lin Yanjun who knows that Zhangjing can't sleep well out of his own bed, and so he knows Zhangjing has barely slept in days. Normally, Yanjun would have gotten angry by now. 

Zhangjing scoffs internally and looks away, putting his head on Zhengting's shoulder. Why would Yanjun care, anyway?

Ziyi and Zeren, on the other hand, look  _furious,_ so Zhangjing doesn't really want to look at them either, but they deserve his attention, so he does. They're in the corner of the room, whispering harshly, but too quietly for anyone to hear what they're saying. It looks like Ziyi is trying to talk Zeren out of something, his eyes pleading and barely containing their anger. Zeren is stone-faced, his gaze fixed on Yanjun with what Zhangjing can only describe as hate. 

Zhangjing almost whimpers out loud. He doesn't want  _this._

The problem is between Yanjun and himself - Ziyi and Zeren have no business getting angry at Yanjun when he has done them no wrong. Zhangjing just wishes they'd stay out of this, and keep on being friends with Yanjun. 

Because Yanjun is not the reason Zhangjing feels like absolute shit. Zhangjing may tell himself he is, but that's not true. Sure, the fact that they haven't spoken in days doesn't exactly help, but ultimately, it's all Zhangjing's fault. Zhangjing is here, exhausted beyond belief, because he keeps blaming Yanjun for stupid shit he does to himself. He tries not to get people involved, but they end up caught in his drama anyway, which, in turn, makes him feel like a horrible person. 

In the end, Yanjun still doesn't talk to him, no matter how much Zhangjing may want him to. 

"Well, uh," Zhengting says, his arm slinging around Zhangjing's shoulders. "I think what you've made is good, but I'd like to make a few adjustments."

Thank god for Zhu Zhengting. 

The meeting goes on for two more hours or so. By that time, they've distributed all the lines in all the songs, and finished up the choreography for  _I Will Always Remember_ , with Zeren's help. At some point, Zeren stomps over, pushing an apple into Zhangjing's hand and watches on until he knows Zhangjing has eaten everything, leaving only the bare minimum of the core behind. He then leans over. 

"Ziyi told me what happened."

Zhangjing groans. He's starting to regret the decision to tell Ziyi that Zeren and Yanchen figured it all out. He hadn't told Zeren about the fact that Yanjun walked in on him kissing Ziyi, but now he doesn't have to, apparently. 

"Are you going to ask me if I'm okay?" Zhangjing asks, his voice laced with more bitterness and annoyance than intended. Zeren's expression doesn't change. 

"No. I'm here to tell you you're a fucking idiot."

Zhangjing smiles at that. 

"I'm fine," he says. "Don't worry about it. We'll figure this out, but I need you and Ziyi to stay out of it."

Zeren still doesn't look too happy, but he nods. "Alright. Take care of yourself, You Zhangjing."

By the end of the meeting Zhangjing is tired, but happy. They were productive, and now he has something to focus on these next few weeks. He knows he won't have much time to practice once they're in America, so he decides to get everything down before then, even just roughly. 

So after he gets back to the company building he hits the training room immediately, not even bothering to wash up. He keeps going without break, starting with learning the moves to  _Listen To What I Say,_ until Chaoze nearly drags him off to dinner. 

"I'm sorry, Chaoze," Zhangjing says for the third time in ten minutes. "I just lost track of time. It won't happen again."

Chaoze scoffs and prods at his soup. They're in the cafeteria, sitting at their little table in the corner, which is now half-empty, because Dinghao already ate, and Yanjun doesn't sit here anymore. 

"You said that three days ago, and since then it's happened twice. Whatever, just eat your damn rice."

Zhangjing looks at the little bowl of rice in front of him, the mere smell of it making his stomach churn. It's not even that much rice, but Zhangjing can't stand it. He's really not hungry, but he figures if he doesn't eat, Chaoze will be on his ass about it. The rice is hard to swallow, and he only barely manages to keep it down, but Chaoze seems satisfied enough. 

Zhangjing's eyes fall on Yanjun as he looks around the bustling room - they always do, it seems. He's on the opposite side of the room, with Maotong and Honglin, smiling as Honglin laughs at Maotong's joke. His tray is piled with vegetables, soup and rice, while Zhangjing merely has the pathetic little bowl in front of him. 

Chaoze follows his gaze and sighs. "What's going on between you two?" Chaoze asks, his voice suddenly frustrated. 

It suddenly occurs to Zhangjing that Chaoze doesn't know.

Yanjun didn't tell him. 

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it," Zhangjing says absentmindedly, never taking his eyes off Yanjun. 

Yanjun still looks the same as he did four months ago. 

Zhangjing isn't sure if he recognizes him now. 

His hair is different, but then again, it's been white before. He still gets embarrassed when he truly laughs - uncontrollable, unstoppable laughter that rips from him in giggles, either soundless or far too loud. He'll hide his face in his elbow, slapping his knee, tears in the corners of his eyes. He still eats cutely, too. His dimples appear every thirty seconds as Zhangjing watches him from across the room. His mouth opens, too - a habit Zhangjing has always been slightly disgusted by, but could never truly hate, either. 

Zhangjing knows Yanjun still worries about him, but Zhangjing doesn't find the same comfort in that anymore. He can sometimes still feel Yanjun's gaze on him when he's not looking, but now all it does is make him nervous.

And when Zhangjing looks at Yanjun now, all his heart does is flutter and ache, because Yanjun is still as beautiful as he was and he still looks like the warmest person Zhangjing will ever meet - so why is he so different?

Zhangjing stands, his chair scraping loudly over the floor, his empty bowl clattering over the table. Chaoze and trainees from the tables around theirs look up at him, but Yanjun doesn't. Zhangjing's head is spinning - he needs to get out of here. 

Away from the demon that is Lin Yanjun. 

He excuses himself with a quick bow to Chaoze, and then he's weaving through the tables, moving as fast as he can, praying  _Please, don't look up._

Lin Yanjun looks up, but Zhangjing is close enough to the door to run, so he does. His heart is racing, and his breath comes in ragged gasps, because he  _knows_ now. He stumbles through the corridors, past the black doors and into the staircase. He takes the stairs two at a time, ignoring the scandalized gasp from a staff lady he rushes past. The practice room is empty - thank god - and with shaking hands he connects his phone to the audio system. When the first few notes of  _Listen To What I Say_ play he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and lets his thoughts be drowned out by the music. 

He's not pushing his problems away - if Yanjun would just talk to him, this would've been resolved already. 

No, Zhangjing thinks as he starts to lose himself to the music, his body moving to the beat, vaguely mimicking what parts of the choreography he remembers. He's not avoiding the thought, the idea, the concept of Yanjun. There is one fact that keeps him from mulling over Yanjun for hours. 

Lin Yanjun is the single most dangerous thing to think about. 

* * *

 

The practice room floor is cold and soothing against Zhangjing's cheek, but the humid air in the room is still too warm, and Zhangjing feels his sweaty skin stick to the floor already. Instead of breathing he coughs - horrible, wet hacking that forcibly tears from his body, that yet sounds listless, because he no longer has the energy for even this. 

His lungs burn, there's a loud ringing in his ears, his limbs throb painfully and his vision is blurred with sweat, black dots and possibly tears. He tries to focus on his breathing, trying to suck in air between coughs, but he current position gets in the way. 

The music stopped a while ago - Zhangjing's phone had died, but he'd kept going in an attempt to find that 'balance' Zhang PD always talked about. He'd grown frustrated and lost track of time. He wouldn't be surprised if he only had a few minutes till dawn by now. 

Minutes - probably more like seconds - pass, and Zhangjing's breathing finally evens out, and so he drags himself up, ignoring the screaming pain in his head and his legs. He whimpers and walks to the dirty, misty mirror, though he already knows he won't like what he sees. 

With the music gone, his mind races, but he lets it, because he's too damn exhausted to stop it. 

He scowls when he looks at himself, standing at the front of the large, dark practice room, bright, yellow lights shining overhead, and Zhangjing knows it's not just the lighting that makes him look the way he does. 

His gaze starts at the top. His hair is a matted, greasy mess, neglected of care for several days now, flopping limply in front of his eyes. His eyes under that are sunken, lined with red and bloodshot. They make him look like an addict. Perhaps in some ways he is. His hands won't stop trembling, even when they're merely at his sides. His legs still look awful - Zhangjing has never lost weight easily - with too-big thighs and knees that turn inwards. 

Even though he's not as bad as he was when Yanjun came back, he still knows his wordless promise to Yanjun is already broken. Zhangjing is ashamed. 

The memories suddenly come back to him. When he first met Yanjun, all those years ago, he'd thought he was handsome, even back then. Yanjun had strutted in, head held high and cheeks still full with baby fat - Zhangjing remembers thinking Yanjun would be one of those boys, all talk with nothing to show for it, the ones who intentionally broke hearts at every opportunity. It was apparent, from the first day, that Yanjun was nothing like that. He was cocky - yes - but he was talented. Talented enough to make Zhangjing feel a good bit inferior. 

Lin Yanjun had it all - he could dance well enough to keep up with Chaoze's choreographies, his rap was powerful, his singing could be worked on but the potential was definitely there, and he was handsome. Everyone liked him. All Zhangjing had was a broken singing voice not yet ready for any stage. He'd been so envious - so jealous - that he didn't bother talking to Yanjun for the first week or so. 

But then he'd overheard Yanjun talking to Chaoze, his voice strained and his Mandarin thick with accent. He was upset to the point where he'd switched back to Taiwanese Mandarin entirely, and Chaoze just couldn't seem to understand what he was saying. Zhangjing had walked up to them, and he'd understood what Yanjun was trying to say, because Zhangjing's Mandarin was that of a foreigner, too. Yanjun had looked at him then, tears in his eyes and gratitude etched into his chubby face, and Zhangjing thought  _This kid can't be too bad._

From that moment on, Yanjun never left his side. They were together whenever they were allowed to be, and then some more. Zhangjing grew to learn everything about Yanjun, and Yanjun, in turn, knew most things about Zhangjing. They were best friends who pushed each other to the limit, helped each other improve, helped others understand what they were saying. Chaoze would always say that he was Zhangjing's best friend, but he also said that Yanjun was Zhangjing's soulmate - not because their personalities matched so well, but because they balanced each other out. 

And then suddenly, Yanjun was gone - gone for a year. While Zhangjing was never truly alone, he felt he was the loneliest person in the world. Nobody spoke Zhangjing's language like Yanjun did. Zhangjing was in need - his life had always been messy, but without Yanjun it was turned over, in complete disarray - and nobody was there to catch him, so he tumbles into the dark. 

When Yanjun came back, he'd been so  _angry._ He'd very nearly punched Chaoze, and he'd slammed Zhangjing against the wall of this very practice room, hard enough to hurt, angry tears in his eyes, demanding  _How could you do this to yourself?!_

Zhangjing hadn't answered, too fascinated by the fact that  _Yanjun_ was  _here,_ in front of him after a year, and then Yanjun - a boy everyone said was colder than the North Pole - had burst into tears, falling into Zhangjing's wiry, bony arms. 

And now Zhangjing is sobbing, on his knees in front of the mirror littered with fingerprints, punching the floor weakly, listlessly, because he's been lying to himself for years now. 

Zhangjing remembers the way his heart raced as Yanjun's tears seeped through his shirt onto his twiggy chest, as Yanjun clutched at his bony shoulders, as Yanjun chokes out  _I'm sorry_ over and over again. He remembers how he knew nothing would be the same again - it never could be. 

Zhangjing's heart is breaking now because he hasn't liked Yanjun for a few weeks. 

He's loved Yanjun for years. 

That's why is hurt  _so bad._ Yanjun hasn't been able to look at him these days - ever since he found out Zhangjing is gay. He's probably disgusted by him - he wouldn't be the first. But the ignoring, the cold shoulder, the refusal to even acknowledge - Zhangjing feels this is the worst kind of rejection. He would've preferred it if Yanjun had come to him, saying they can't be friends anymore, or if he'd become angry,  _anything._ But then again, he supposes this is what Yanjun felt like when Zhangjing didn't talk to him, so in a way, it's what he deserves. 

Zhangjing's sobs echo through the empty room, broken, loud and desperate. His head swims and his whole body trembles, snot and tears dripping from his chin to the floor. Bile rises in his throat, but he forces it down. His lungs burn again, his chest aches and he just really, really wants to go home. 

Something clicks, groans and squeaks. 

Zhangjing doesn't have to look up to know that Yanjun is standing in the doorframe. He falls silent though, breath hitching and tears skidding to a halt. Zhangjing looks to the side, and sure enough, Yanjun is there, hand still on the door-handle, surprise and conflict evident on his face. 

"Oh! Uh... Zhangjing," says Yanjun awkwardly, his hand flying up  to rub the back of his neck. He doesn't look at Zhangjing, but rather at Zhangjing's neck. "I didn't know you were in here. Sorry."

He's lying. He's not even attempting to hide it properly. Something about that infuriates Zhangjing. It feels as if he's being mocked, right in the face. It's as if Yanjun thinks Zhangjing isn't even worth the truth anymore. 

Yanjun bows - like Zhangjing is a stranger - and turns to leave.

"Don't you dare avoid me, Lin Yanjun," Zhangjing says, his own voice unfamiliar to his ears, low and dangerous. He stands, his eyes never leaving Yanjun. Yanjun freezes, his body suddenly tense, his hand still on the fucking door-handle. 

Then he turns,  _finally_ looking Zhangjing in the eye. His jaw is set, and there's an anger blazing in his gaze that only infuriates Zhangjing more. 

"Excuse me?" Yanjun says slowly, his head cocking to the side just a little. 

Zhangjing hesitates, biting his lip. "Stop pretending you're not my friend."

Yanjun lets go of the door-handle and takes a step into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him. Zhangjing can see his fists clenching, his shoulders hunching and his feet shifting. Oh, Yanjun is angry, alright. 

"Are we?"

Zhangjing sucks in a sharp breath. What is he saying?

"What do you mean?" He sounds so small, so pathetic, yet he spits out the words like an attack, because some twisted part of him wants to see Yanjun hurt.

"Are we really friends?" Yanjun is trying to sound like he doesn't care, but his voice betrays him, breaking just at the end of his sentence. It hurts. "You don't think it's worth it to tell me anything, so are we really friends?"

So. That's what this is about. Zhangjing scoffs. "You're unbelievable," he mutters, shifting on his feet and crossing his arms. 

"So  _I'm_ the unbelievable one?!" Yanjun seethes. "Yes, Zhangjing. We were  _supposed_ to be friends.  _I_ told you practically everything, but apparently  _you_ think it's fine to leave out details!" Yanjun really is shouting now, and Zhangjing can't help but shrink back a little. "I had to find out  _on_ _accident_ while you were-" Yanjun's voice breaks. "I had to find out that..."

Yanjun trails off, clearly hesitating. No - he's stopping himself from saying something. 

"Say it, Lin Yanjun," says Zhangjing, voice raised. 

"I had to find everything out on accident while you were shoving your tongue down Wang Ziyi's throat!"

Angry tears spring into Zhangjing's eyes. Yanjun really does think so little of him. 

"You fucking bastard," Zhangjing croaks quietly. Yanjun's eyes darken even more in anger and in surprise, but Zhangjing won't let him talk. "Do you know how hard it's been for me?! My entire fucking  _life_ could be ruined if anyone finds out. I've spent my whole life hiding who I am - do you really think you're better than my parents? They don't know either! While you're over there feeling entitled to my life I've been hiding. Do you know what they do to people like me?!"

For the first time, Yanjun looks guilt. Good. Zhangjing isn't done yet. 

"I've wanted to tell you for  _years,_ but I  _couldn't._ I-I was so scared, Lin Yanjun, of not being your friend. And then you saw me with Ziyi - you  _knew,_ and you didn't talk to me for days. H-How was that supposed to make me feel, huh?!"

Zhangjing is crying again, but he really doesn't care, because Yanjun is crying too, though he's trying to hide it, that fucking idiot. Zhangjing wraps his arms around himself, wishing he could disappear so he doesn't have to see the hurt in Yanjun's eyes. 

"I thought I'd l-lost you. I thought you hated me."

He looks away then, tears falling freely from his face, but no sound coming from his mouth anymore. He feels broken, ashamed and disgusting. Footsteps approach him quickly, and he anticipates it, but he still flinches when Yanjun's cold hands gently pry apart is arms. 

Zhangjing sighs when Yanjun steps in close, pulling Zhangjing against his chest with a tenderness Zhangjing has never felt from Yanjun before. Yanjun moves slowly, as if Zhangjing is an animal he's trying not to frighten. He wraps himself around Zhangjing entirely, his cheek pressed against the side of Zhangjing's head, his arms strong as they keep Zhangjing close, keep him protected. 

Zhangjing instinctively responds by wrapping his arms around Yanjun's middle and burying his face in the crook of Yanjun's neck.

They stay like that for a long time. Zhangjing listens as Yanjun's sniffles slowly die out, his own tears drying in Yanjun's shirt. Yanjun never loosens his hold on Zhangjing, and Zhangjing doesn't want him to. Not for the first time, Zhangjing wishes he could stop time, and stay here with Yanjun forever.

"You cry too much," Yanjun croaks eventually, against Zhangjing's hair. 

Zhangjing sighs. "At least I don't look constipated when I cry."

"I'm not crying."

Zhangjing snickers. Just like that they've fallen into their usual banter, and Zhangjing feels so, so light. 

"Is your nose red?" Zhangjing asks, smiling just a little. 

"...no," Yanjun says. Zhangjing laughs then, and pulls away to look at Yanjun's face. His nose  _is_ red, and so is the lining around his eyes. There's a tired, sad smile on his face too, and Zhangjing hates seeing it, but he doesn't look away. 

"Thank you," says Zhangjing.

"For what?"

"Not telling Chaoze and the others. For talking to me." Zhangjing feels it's obvious how grateful it is, but he needs to say it anyway. 

"Yeah. You really owe me for that one," Yanjun teases, his usual smirk creeping back on his face. Zhangjing rolls his eyes, but he's smiling too. 

"How will I  _ever_ repay you?" Zhangjing says dramatically.

Yanjun is quiet for a moment, an indescribable, peculiar look on his face. 

"Come back home with me."

Zhangjing feels his smile fade. He hasn't been home in days. He misses it. He nods. 

"Do you really need me to sleep, Lin Yanjun?"

"Yes." That wasn't the answer Zhangjing was expecting. Yanjun is completely serious, though. "I've been sleeping in the extra room, but I want to sleep in my own bed again."

Their apartment has two rooms. One where Yanjun, Maotong and Zhangjing used to sleep, and one for when Maotong brought his friend over, or when Yanjun had his... guests. Whenever they fought - which happened a lot - one of them would be sleeping in there. Zhangjing doesn't question Yanjun's reasons for sleeping there. 

"Alright." Zhangjing grabs onto Yanjun's hand, afraid that if he lets go, Yanjun will slip away again. To his relief - and to the detriment of his heart - Yanjun intertwines their fingers and squeezes his hand, sending a tender smile his way. Zhangjing can feel his heart skip a beat. 

For a second he wonders if he's making a mistake. Will he really be able to pretend he's not head over heels for Yanjun? Will he be able to pretend his heart doesn't hurt whenever Yanjun smiles, whenever Yanjun speaks? He'll have to pretend Yanjun's little touches - which are probably meant to be reassuring - don't set fire to his skin. 

But Yanjun is smiling at him, his eyes bordering on pleading, as he carefully starts to guide Zhangjing to the door, and Zhangjing's resolve is wavering. Yanjun has a power over him that no one else has, and Zhangjing is far too weak to resist. 

So he relents, and allows himself to be swept away. 

 

Ever since Yanjun made Zhangjing's heart falter in this very room so many years ago, he never stood a chance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are always appreciated ;)
> 
> also Zeren and Ziyi are now officially part of the Zhangjing Protection Squad.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao sorry u guys. I had exams, which is why this took so long. 
> 
> anyways: the one in which lin yanjun is weak for you zhangjing.

Los Angeles is nice. The weather is good, if not a little humid, and the city is covered in yellow and green. It's definitely quieter than Shanghai or Beijing, though Yanjun finds it a little unsettling sometimes - especially at night. 

The people are friendly - they're patient, obviously quite used to foreigners, but it's still endlessly exhausting to have to translate so much. Mr Jerkins and Mr Scott help him, of course, but they don't speak Mandarin, and so Yanjun is kind of left alone with the translator, which would be fine, if that man were in any way capable of translating emotion, which he isn't.

The training is difficult - Mr Jerkins is, after all, incredibly prestigious and he certainly lives up to his reputation. He's harsh, but he knows what he's talking about, perhaps more so than even Zhang PD. Yanjun is glad to have something to distract him, though. 

Because his mind won't stop wandering to Zhangjing and Ziyi. It's been weeks - nearly a month - since then, but the image of Ziyi between Zhangjing's thighs is still seared into his mind. He just can't seem to let it go - every time he closes his eyes he sees Ziyi's mouth against Zhangjing's neck, biting and sucking, and Zhangjing's head thrown back, face contorted in pleasure. 

After his talk with Zhangjing a few days before they left for America, Yanjun had promised himself he would control it - the feelings, the urges - but he's told himself those kind of lies far too often now. 

It shines through in moments like these. All nine of them are in Yanjun and Zhangjing's shared room, their bellies still full with dinner. The room is a bit of a mess - clothes are strewn all over the floor, and their suitcases are thrown open carelessly - it honestly makes Yanjun wish Zhixie were here even more. The empty takeout is piled on the desk, and Zhengting is fussing over the mess, which is quite an amusing sight. 

Minghao is falling asleep against Zhengting's shoulder - it's quite late, and from what Yanjun can gather, Minghao's been too excited to sleep ever since they came to America, which was almost two weeks ago now. It's stuff like this that reminds Yanjun just how young Minghao really is. Zhengting is acting annoyed, but Yanjun can tell he's trying not to move too much, and his voice is far softer than before. 

Chengcheng and Linkai are chatting animatedly in the corner, voices low and soft, yet their energy shining through anyway. Normally only Minghao can keep up with Linkai, but Yanjun guesses Linkai is quite tired, too. 

Nongnong is sprawled out on Zhangjing's bed, his head in Xukun's lap, letting his hair be threaded through by Xukun's gentle fingers. He looks comfortable, and happy. Yanjun can't help but smile a little at the sight. 

But then there's Zhangjing and Ziyi, and not matter how much Yanjun tries not to look at them, his gaze always lingers. Zhangjing looks comfortable. He's between Ziyi's legs, his back against Ziyi's chest, while Ziyi leans against the headboard of the bed, and Yanjun feels a familiar pang in his chest at every giggle, every inside joke, every shared whisper between those two he hears. 

Yanjun isn't sure when, but at some point during that damned show he was replaced as Zhangjing's confidant, his best friend. 

That hurts. 

Zhengting and Nongnong keep talking, and Yanjun is glad, because he isn't sure if he'll be able to keep from snapping as soon as he opens his mouth. He never has been good at hiding his emotions, despite what people may think. He knows Zhangjing will ask him about it later, but at least then Ziyi won't be around. 

Zhengting beats Zhangjing to it, though. 

"Jesus," he says, stopping in the middle of his conversation with Linong to look from Xukun to Yanjun, "what's with you two today? You're not even listening!"

Yanjun doesn't deny it, though he's surprised Xukun is being accused of the same thing. He supposes he's heard Xukun's voice a little less in the past hour, but honestly, he hasn't really been paying attention much. 

"Sorry," mutters Xukun, untangling his fingers from Nongnong's hair to rub at his eyes. "I'm just tired, I guess." Yanjun doesn't miss the way Xukun's eyes flicker to Ziyi and Zhangjing, and when Yanjun looks at Ziyi, he sees his brow is furrowed and his eyes are overflowing concern. 

Strange.

"Should we go back to the room, bro?" Ziyi asks, and Zhangjing sits up, ready to let Ziyi slip away from behind him. Ziyi stays still, looking to Xukun for confirmation, while yanjun watches on with interest. 

"No, it's fine," says Kunkun, though even to Yanjun he sounds tired, "I'll go. You and Zhangjing stay here - together." There's a bitterness in Kunkun's voice that Yanjun knows for certain Ziyi and Zhangjing won't have missed. 

Nongnong sits up, Kunkun stands, moving towards the door, and nobody stops him. Zhangjing turns around, crossing his legs under Ziyi's knees, his back to Yanjun. Yanjun looks away, feeling as if he's intruding on a very intimate, private moment, and his gut twists uncomfortably. 

Looking at Nongnong and Zhengting doesn't exactly help either, because they offer him sympathetic smiles, pity evident in their eyes. Yanjun focuses on Chengcheng and Linkai instead, but their conversation merely sounds like faint buzzing in his ears. He hates the fact that he's so obvious - they all know, except maybe Ziyi, Zhangjing and Xukun. 

"Alright," says Zhengting, scraping his throat loudly. "Linkai, Nongnong, go wash up and get to bed - we've got an early day tomorrow. Chengcheng, could you help me with Minghao? I don't think he's waking up anytime soon."

"It's fine, Zhengting," says Zhangjing, untangling his legs from Ziyi's and standing up to brush Linong's hair back into place. "He can stay here for the night." Zhangjing looks at Yanjun then, and Yanjun nods. He knows Zhengting is probably too tired to carry Minghao anyway. 

"Where will you sleep then?" Zhengting asks, carefully lowering Minghao onto the bed, and tucking him under the covers. Yanjun is suddenly reminded why they almost chose Zhengting as a leader, and not Xukun. 

"We're both small," says Zhangjing with a wink. Yanjun nearly chokes. "I'm sure we can both fit."

"You sure?" says Zhengting, an amused smile on his face as he throws an arm around Zhangjing's shoulder. "Minghao thrashes in his sleep. A lot."

"He really does," says Chengcheng, nudging his foot under Linkai's ass as he walks past. Linkai doesn't even react. "There's a reason we requested another bed."

Zhangjing hesitates, clearly thinking through his options. "Well, uh, then I guess-"

"You can share with me," blurts Yanjun. Shit. He really hadn't meant to say that. Regret fills his stomach as he watches the smile slip from Zhangjing's face. Does he not want to?

Yanjun runs his mouth far too often. It's a problem - especially around Zhangjing. He's always been a bit of an opportunist, and it's not like he  _doesn't_ want to share a bed with Zhangjing - trust him, he does - but he isn't sure if he made the right decision by asking that. Besides, Ziyi is  _right there._

For a moment Yanjun thinks Zhangjing might refuse - Yanjun can see the conflict in Zhangjing's eyes, his hesitation taking form in the fiddling with the edge of his shirt, and the nervous shifting of his feet. Yanjun is about to take back his words, play it off as a joke with a smile and a wink, but then Zhangjing nods and smiles, as if the hesitation was never there to begin with. Yanjun doesn't smile back. 

He bids Linkai and Linong goodnight, wishing Nongnong good luck, because it doesn't look as if Linkai is going to settle down anytime soon, before the two of them are forcibly pushed out of the room by Chengcheng. 

"Yanjun?" Zhengting asks, "could I talk to you for a moment?"

Yanjun nods and follows Zhengting into the hallway of the hotel, ignoring the curious looks Ziyi and Zhangjing throw their way. Yanjun doesn't like leaving the two of them alone in a room like this, but they wouldn't do anything with Minghao sleeping in the room, would they?

As soon as they door closes behind them, Zhengting sighs. "You're a hot mess, Lin Yanjun."

Yanjun snickers, though he's not particularly amused. "Well, at least I'm still hot," he jokes lamely. 

Zhengting rolls his eyes and sighs again. Yanjun knows Zhengting was one of the last to figure it all out - Linkai says he knew when he first saw the two of them together, which must've been when he and Zhangjing were in B class, and Minghao says he knew from the first elimination. Zhengting only found out when Minghao told him everything during the fight. 

"Zeren texted again today," Zhengting says, crossing his arms. "He was asking about Zhangjing again. That's the third time this week - I really think he has it out for you."

Yanjun huffs. "He has every right to," he says bitterly. 

Zeren, right after the party, had come up to him with his eyes blazing. Zeren may not be the biggest guy Yanjun has ever met, but he  _radiates_ power when he wants to. He's honestly quite terrifying sometimes. He'd made Yanjun swear not to hurt Zhangjing, especially after knowing Zhangjing is into men. Yanjun had been just as infuriated, because why the fuck did Ding Zeren know before he did, but that's beside the point. 

When Yanjun broke that promise, Zeren was out for his head. 

"What do you mean?" Zhengting frowns. "Is this about your fight again?"

Yanjun glares at him, and his mouth claps shut. Yanjun hasn't told anyone why he and Zhangjing fought - he wasn't able to come up with a good lie fast enough - and he's made sure everyone knows he has no intention to open his mouth about it. 

They're quiet for a moment - it's awkward, but Yanjun is too prideful to start talking first. 

"Ah, shit," Zhengting says eventually, "I was hoping you're weren't completely whipped, but oh well. How long have you felt like this?"

Yanjun purses his lips - he doesn't like talking about stuff like this. He's never been able to hide his true feelings well, but to just lay them out in the open like this is a whole new level of discomfort Yanjun has not yet reached. But oh well, it's not like he'll be able to keep it from Zhengting anyway. 

"About a week after I met him."

"Jesus, Lin Yanjun."

"I know." Yanjun doesn't say anything else, brushing past Zhengting and keying open the door to his room, knowing Zhengting won't follow him, not caring for what scene he might find. 

"-just talk to him, alright?" he hears Zhangjing say as soon as he walks in. Zhangjing speaks softly, his voice fond and comforting. Yanjun feels his gut twist, because that voice used to be reserved only for him. 

Zhangjing and Ziyi are standing by the foot of Yanjun's bed, Ziyi's hand clasped tight between Zhangjing's, standing so close together, though they might've moved apart when they heard the door open. Yanjun doesn't really want to think about that, though. They spring apart once they see Yanjun in the hall, and for a moment Yanjun feels bad, but then he doesn't, because Zhangjing smiles at him and it's like they're the only ones in the room. 

"Goodnight, Zhangjing," Ziyi says, and the moment is ruined. Zhangjing released Ziyi's hand to hold one of his palms against Ziyi's cheek, as Ziyi squeezes Zhangjing's arm. Yanjun averts his gaze, but he feels his heart breaking anyway. It's not like Zhangjing used to do these kind of things to Yanjun alone, but it's different now. Yanjun has watched Zhangjing show his affection to any of his countless friends, but after - well,  _that -_ Yanjun can't fight the jealousy that has festered in his heart.

He doesn't notice he's spaced out until Ziyi brushed past him, murmuring a kind but quiet "goodnight", before leaving for the night, and the room is quiet. 

Zhangjing looks at him, his expression curious and scrutinizing, and Yanjun suddenly wishes they were strangers, that Ziyi were just some random asshole and not a good friend, because it would make everything so, so much easier. But Yanjun knows that he doesn't deserve any ease from Zhangjing. 

Yanjun doesn't waste time showering - Zhangjing does, but his hair is dry when he comes back. Yanjun doesn't bother putting on a sleeping shirt, because he knows with Zhangjing there, he'll be warm anyway. He gets into bed first, and he holds up the covers for Zhangjing to slip in next to him. Yanjun rolls away and reaches to the wall to turn off the light. 

The bed is spacious, but as Yanjun rolls back he sees that Zhangjing is very near the middle of it, and Yanjun lets him be. He wants him to be. They're close - perhaps too close, but Yanjun is too selfish to pull away now. Especially when Zhangjing looks up at him with those wide eyes, the light that seeps through the curtains reflecting in those deep, brown orbs, his breath barely ghosting over Yanjun's face, still smelling of that cheap, mint toothpaste. 

"What are you thinking about, Lin Yanjun?" Zhangjing's voice is soft, barely above a whisper, but there's a tightness to it that Yanjun hasn't heard in a long time. There's something on Zhangjing's mind, but he won't tell Yanjun what it is today. When he's ready, Yanjun knows he will. 

"Do you remember the first elimination?" Yanjun sounds croaky - upset - even to his own ears. Zhangjing's brow quirks up in surprise, but he nods, just like Yanjun knew he would. Who could forget it, really? "Do you remember going to HaiDiLao before?"

"Yes."

"All the others went to sit in the middle section, but we didn't," Yanjun says. He hasn't talked to Zhangjing about this yet, but it's been bugging him for a while now. 

"You don't like crowds," says Zhangjing, frowning. "You asked me to sit there with you."

Yanjun barely manages not to flinch. "I chose not to sit with the rest of them."

Yanjun can see the exact moment Zhangjing figures it all out. He hesitates, just for a moment. There is indecision in his eyes that Yanjun can't place, but it seems to grip Zhangjing tightly - a faint trace of fear in his face. But then it passes, and Zhangjing's gaze softens and a sympathetic smile creeps onto his lips. The affection - the love - in his eyes is crippling, but it's still not the kind of love Yanjun wants. 

"Yanjun, they knew you were sorry, and they know now. Maotong was angry at you when he was eliminated, yes, but the kid's young, and he was scared."

When Maotong and the others were eliminated during the first round, Maotong had been furious. He'd accused Yanjun of giving up the last opportunity to have fun as a team to be alone with Zhangjing. He'd called Yanjun selfish for trying to keep Zhangjing to himself. Zhangjing doesn't know about that last part, but Yanjun knows it's true. 

Yanjun bites his lip. He's still not satisfies, and Zhangjing knows that, so he continues. "And I'm still here, aren't I?"

"What will you do  _if_ I push you away again?" Yanjun doesn't know why he asks it, but it's important. To his surprise, Zhangjing smiles again, and places his hand on Yanjun's bare chest, his palm warm against Yanjun's skin.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Yanjun realizes, a little belatedly, that even with Zhangjing's hand right over the warmest part of his body, Zhangjing's skin is still so much warmer than his own. It's as if he's been set on fire, and the culprit is You Zhangjing, with his gentle smiles and soft touches - Yanjun never stood a chance. Others might say he's cold, but he knows he melted long ago, and all it took was someone who  _listened._

It's stuff like this - the rare moments when Yanjun opens up to Zhangjing and only Zhangjing - that makes him realize he'll never be as strong as Zhangjing. 

Zhangjing's hand stays flattened over Yanjun's chest, a look in his eyes that Yanjun can't read but wants to see more often - something akin to wonder in his eyes and his lips parted slightly, as if he's awed - and Yanjun is sure Zhangjing can feel each one of his frantic, painful heartbeats as they crash against his palm. 

Yanjun wants him to feel them. 

He knows Zhangjing won't even notice it, but this is Yanjun's confession. It's loud and clear, but it's so hidden - only Yanjun will know of it. And it hurts him to keep it quiet - all he wants to do is draw Zhangjing closer and whisper the words against his lips. But he doesn't because Huang Minghao is softly snoring on the other bed, and Zhangjing's lips have already been claimed by someone far better than Lin Yanjun.

"You're so fucking cheesy," Yanjun mutters in mock distaste, in a desperate attempt to keep things normal, but Zhangjing just smiles and Yanjun knows it'll be never be normal, because Zhangjing is looking at him like he knows all about what goes on in Yanjun's mind. 

"That's strong, coming from you."

Yanjun smiles, but it's sad, because most of the times he's joking when he says his corny lines or when teases whatever walks to on two feet. Sometimes, though, he means what he says, but he gets laughed off. He supposes it's his own fault for being so fucking ingenuine most of the time. 

"Go to sleep," Yanjun says, and then Zhangjing takes his hand away. It's suddenly obvious there's still so much space between them - their knees just barely touch, and a whole pillow could fit between their faces, and yet even this distance is making Yanjun's mind race. It's always been like this - Zhangjing is always so close, but Yanjun is never able to reach him. 

Yanjun watches as Zhangjing closes his eyes, the rise and fall of his chest steadying out quickly. He feels as if he might be able to watch Zhangjing for hours - the worry gone from his face, dark eyelashes resting against smooth, pale skin, hair tousled against the pillow and lips slightly parted - but his eyes grow heavy quickly, and soon he too succumbs to slumber. 

 

He wakes a few hours later, which isn't all that uncommon, but still bothersome. That is, until he feels the arm slung around his waist, and the legs tangled with his own. He opens his eyes and comes face-to-face with Zhangjing, nearly curled against his chest. 

Yanjun isn't surprised at all. They used to sleep like this all the time, when their beds used to be far smaller and before Maotong had moved and before Yanjun's year-long absence. Though this used to be a near-daily occurrence, it feels unfamiliar and sinister now. Yanjun knows he should pull away, but he's selfish, and lets himself indulge in Zhangjing's warmth a little while longer. 

He sighs. When he looks at Zhangjing like this it's obvious that Zhangjing is so, so strong, and Lin Yanjun is weak. 

Lin Yanjun is selfish. He indulges himself when he shouldn't, and all he does is take, take and take until it wears them all down. He knows fully that he can't have Zhangjing, and yet he stays like this, his arm a pillow and his chest a shield. If Zhangjing woke up now, would he feel guilt? Yanjun knows he himself wouldn't care, because he'd have gotten to be so close to Zhangjing, and that's all that matters to him. He'd known Zhangjing would be better off without him long before he left for Taiwan, but he never distanced himself, because it felt so  _good_ to be subjected to Zhangjing's affections, to get to look at him every day, to listen to him speak. 

You Zhangjing has never done anything to be stuck with anyone as horribly selfish as Yanjun. 

There were so many times Yanjun was given the opportunity to end it all. Back when the lilts to his Mandarin were too strong to understand he could've easily stepped to Zhixie or Honglin, but he didn't, because his heart already beat fast whenever he saw Zhangjing. He was selfish enough to let his feelings blossom to something dangerous that quickly spiraled out of control. He demanded every bit of Zhangjing's attention, and Zhangjing never asked anything in return. 

Zhangjing never asked for anything. He was patient and forgiving when Yanjun was nothing but an ass, snapping at him out of anger and flaring up far too easily. When Yanjun sulked as nothing felt like it was going right, Zhangjing would be beside him, helping him stand back up, even if things were so much worse for him. Zhangjing, who'd be waiting with open arms when Yanjun finally broke, crying into Zhangjing's shoulder silently, no matter how embarrassed he might be, because he knew he'd feel better afterwards. Careless, stupid Zhangjing, who never let Yanjun retreat into self-destruction, no matter how much he may have wanted, no matter how tired Zhangjing may have been. 

Zhangjing always endures - he's never given up. Not when everything - everyone - is against him. Zhangjing's body was broken, and yet he kept going, fighting for his debut until, finally, he got it. Not once did Yanjun think quitting ever cross Zhangjing's mind. He wanted to be the best singer in the company, so that's what he became. He wanted to dance to the most difficult choreographies, and so he did. Sometimes Yanjun feels all he did was whine about the long hours and hard work, while Zhangjing never did. 

Yanjun looks at Zhangjing, his nose so close to the middle of Yanjun's chest, the warm weight of his soft arm comforting over Yanjun's waist. Yanjun's fingers start to tingle, with Zhangjing's head on his outstretched arm, but he doesn't have the heart to move.

Yanjun's eyes fall on Zhangjing's lips. 

He's imagined what those plump lips would feel like a thousand times now. He used to think of them whenever he kissed some poor girl at a bar, imagining them against his own, or as they traveled from his jaw, to his neck, to his collarbone. He never assumed who those lips preferred, because they never showed interest in anyone, and he always thought he'd be the first. 

But then Wang Ziyi got there first. For weeks now, the image has been plaguing Yanjun's thought. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to forget the furrow in Zhangjing's brow as he squeezed his eyes shut, the way his lips looked so good, parted ever so slightly, the sounds of his moans as they were cut short, Ziyi's mouth leaving hickeys that would last for days, his hips rolling expertly against Zhangjing's.

Yanjun wonders, not for the first time, if they've gone further since that night. Has Ziyi left marks all over Zhangjing's skin yet? Has he tasted all of Zhangjing yet? Has he felt Zhangjing's mouth on him yet? Has he- has he made Zhangjing cry out?

Yanjun groans softly. His underwear is suddenly too tight and he scoots his hips back, in fear that Zhangjing might notice - he probably won't,  since he's still asleep. 

He guesses this is exactly what changed between them. Before everything happened, pleasure on Zhangjing's face was something he had to imagine - there was always something missing, like it was never wholly Zhangjing he imagined - but now all he has to do is  _remember._ Now there's nothing holding him back when he looks at Zhangjing's face, his hands, his thighs, his lips. All Yanjun can think is could  _he_ make that look appear on Zhangjing's face again?  Yanjun knows what it's like to touch Zhangjing, but the mere thought of touching him like  _that_ , strikes arousal in him like a lightning bolt, gripping him in its vice-like hold. 

But before all that, he just wants Zhangjing to himself. 

He's selfish, possessive and mean, but  _by god_ he wants Zhangjing so much. 

The girls he used to bring home were always just a substitute, a distraction from the fact that he knew - from when this short, annoying boy translated his frustrated ramblings till now - he'd only be satisfied by one person. His laughter, his affection, his attention - they would always feel better than any orgasm ever would. 

But as he looks at Zhangjing now, sleeping so peacefully is his arms, he knows he won't be satisfied for a long, long time. 

Slowly, so not to make any sound, he bring his free hand to the side of Zhangjing's face, his fingertips brushing through the hairs behind Zhangjing's ear, and he presses his lips to Zhangjing's forehead. 

It's not a goodbye. He's not leaving Zhangjing ever again. He's not planning on giving up either - he still dares to have hope for himself, stupid as that may be. 

It's a promise. 

He'll be patient. 

He'll wait. 

* * *

 

Yanjun is having a horrible day, and it hasn't even started yet.

He wakes in a cold bed, the spot next to him glaringly empty, harsh morning light shining into his eyes. He kicks the blankets off and opens his eyes, groaning loudly. Mornings were never really his thing, and he feels particularly shitty today. 

He sits up and spots Minghao, sitting cross-legged on Zhangjing's bed, hair sticking up in every direction, and yesterday's clothes a crumpled and crushed mess. If Yanjun didn't know any better, he'd say Minghao had a good time last night. 

But he does know better, and he doesn't particularly like the smug and all-too-knowing look on Minghao's face, so he scowls. Minghao just laughs. 

"Where's Zhangjing?" Yanjun asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

"He went to Nongnong's room half an hour ago." There's a glint in Minghao's eyes that Yanjun does not trust at all, and it does absolutely nothing to improve his mood. "You and Jing-ge were... awfully tangled up this morning."

"Watch it, kid," Yanjun warns. Minghao giggles gleefully.

"Anything I should know about?" Minghao teases. "Any late-night  _happenings?"_

"You're dead, kid." Yanjun leaps from his bed faster than Minghao can react and thrown himself on top of him, hands moving to pin down Minghao's wrists. Minghao screeches, loudly, and thrashes wildly, but Yanjun is far stronger - not to mention, bigger - than Minghao, and he holds him down with ease. 

"No! Please, ge, I'm sorry!"

"Lin Yanjun, what are you doing?" 

Yanjun whips around. In the hallway stand Zhengting and Zhangjing, followed by Nongnong, Chengcheng and Linkai. Zhengting has his hands on his hips while Zhangjing clutches to his shoulder, failing not to laugh. Minghao uses Yanjun's distractedness to twist out from under him, and he scurries to hide behind Zhangjing. 

"Jing-ge," Minghao says, feigning innocence. Yanjun scowls. "Yanjun-ge is bullying me."

Chengcheng barks out a laugh, brushing past Minghao and plopping down on Yanjun's bed. "You probably deserved it," he says, laughing when Linkai nods in agreement. 

"I think it'd be best if you don't bother Yanjun too much today," Yanjun hears Zhangjing say to Minghao, and he can't help but hum in appreciation. Zhangjing doesn't seem to hear it, but Nongnong does, and he winks. Yanjun groans and lets himself fall onto Zhangjing's bed. 

"Minghao, go get changed and washed up," says Zhengting. Yanjun doesn't really want to pay attention, but he does anyway, because having to ask again is something he won't be able to put up with today. "Chengcheng, go fetch Xukun and Ziyi. Alright, everyone! Who's ready for our last day in America?"

 

This day really is horrible. 

Yanjun has already snapped and Linkai, Nongnong  _and_ Zhangjing for trying to get him to translate something, his nerves far shorter than usual. Yanjun has never been able to pride himself in being a very patient man, today really is bad. On top of that, Xukun hasn't said anything all day, merely opting to glare at Ziyi when he thinks no one is looking, and Zhengting was nearly driven to tears when Linkai and Minghao decided to put salt in his coffee. Even Linong is quieter than usual, though normally other people's moods don't affect him. 

And to top it all off, their trip out was rudely interrupted by a massive rainstorm. 

"Alright, this obviously isn't working," says Ziyi with a great sigh after they've all collected in Nongnong and Linkai's room. Yanjun scoffs. Zhangjing and Ziyi called this meeting,  _together,_ so he has a good guess what this is going to be about. 

And he's really, really rather not be here for it. It seems Xukun is thinking the same thing, because he looks absolutely miserable, and Yanjun thinks he might be trying to disappear into his hoodie. Yanjun doesn't blame him.

He's been sitting here, fingers drumming on his legs nervously, not sure what to think. If Zhangjing and Ziyi are going to announce it now, that must mean they like each other a lot, right? Zhangjing has been hesitant until now - he didn't even want to tell Yanjun right away - so if they're going to tell everyone now, doesn't that mean he's in it for the long run? The mere thought of it makes Yanjun's gut twist uncomfortably, but he manages to keep his face blank. This was bound to happen someday, wasn't it?

"Look," says Zhangjing, and  _fuck,_ Yanjun wants to be here for him and everything, but he genuinely doesn't think he'll be able to, especially when his day has been such absolute shit, "I know we're all nervous about going back to China tomorrow, but this is important."

"Zhangjing and I really think we all need to talk about what went wrong today," Ziyi says, eyes round, passing over every single person in the room. 

Oh. 

_Oh._

The dread in Yanjun's stomach is replaced with pure annoyance, because what the fuck? Yanjun just spent a good thirty minutes steeling himself for a reality he was quite happy to avoid, just to have fucking Wang Ziyi avoid the subject entirely. And who does he think he is, anyway?  _Zhangjing and_ _I?_ It's like he's trying to rub it in their faces that they're together, while Zhangjing obviously doesn't want people knowing yet. See? Even Xukun seems angry about it, and he doesn't get angry easily. 

Deciding that he doesn't want to put up with this, Yanjun stands, annoyance and anger boiling hot in his veins. 

"Yanjun, sit down," Zhengting snaps angrily. Yanjun feels the air grow cold around him, and he sits, but he's fucking furious now. The tension in the room is palpable, but Yanjun doesn't care, because this is fucking ridiculous. 

Zhangjing clears his throat, eyeing Yanjun nervously. "Alright. Uh. I wanted to start by asking what upset Nongnong today."

Nongnong starts, his eyes wide. He looks a little out of it, Yanjun does have to admit. 

"Oh," he says quietly, "nothing. I talking to my parents today and I miss them."

Hmm. Yanjun doesn't want to sound like an absolute dick, but this is something that could easily be resolved by one person. He knows Zhengting and Minghao are no strangers to being far away from home, and Zhangjing lives thousands of miles away from his entire family. 

"Don't worry," says Xukun, and Yanjun is honestly quite surprised Xukun even thought to open his mouth today, "we'll be sure to call them every night, okay?"

Nongnong nods. "Alright," says Zhangjing cheerfully, though Yanjun can tell it's a little forced. "Zhengting? You next?"

" _Well,"_ says Zhengting. Yanjun rolls his eyes. Does this guy have nothing better to do than being dramatic? "I am absolutely fine with helping people with their problems. Ask Minghao and Chengcheng, and they'll say it's the  _only_ thing I'm good at."

"It really is," says Minghao tiredly. 

"Anyway, I did not sign up to be a damn middle man. All I seem to do is pass messaged from one person to another. Minghao, if you want to ask Linkai something, you can do that yourself. Zhangjing, I really, really  wish you'd talk to Zeren and Yanchen because the two of them keep blowing up my phone. And Yanjun? Please don't take your frustrations out on us."

"What?!" Yanjun jumps up, seething. "I didn't do anything!"

"Yes, you did. You were the worst out of all of us today," says Zhengting, a stormy look in his eyes. 

"Whatever, I don't have time for this bullshit." Yanjun starts to walk to the door, but just before he can reach it, a small, warm hand closes around his wrist and drags him back. Yanjun can't put up any fight either, because he knows who that hand belongs to. 

"Yes, you do. Now c'mon, Yanjun, this is important," says Zhangjing, pulling Yanjun down next to him on the bed, and it's like Yanjun suddenly has no fight left in him. 

"Yeah..." says Linkai carefully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yanjun-ge, you were a bit... too snappy, honestly."

Yanjun takes a deep breath and forces himself to calm down. Yes, he may have reacted a little aggressively at times, but he still doesn't think he needs to be chewed out for this in front of everyone. 

"It's fine if you're having a bad day," says Zhengting finally, and Yanjun can tell he'd rather not have this conversation either. Zhangjing squeezes his wrist gently, as if to encourage him to listen. "But please, talk to us about it then, so we can help you or leave you alone."

Yanjun nods. "I'm sorry," he says, and he means it. He's well aware that he gets especially snappy over nothing in particular on day like these. Most of the time he doesn't mean to be such an overbearing bitch, but it happens anyway and he almost always regrets it. 

Zhengting nods, satisfied. When Yanjun looks at Zhangjing, he's smiling, pride shining through his eyes at even the smallest of Yanjun's acts. Zhangjing's smile send a nearly-uncomfortable warmth spreading through his chest, all the way to his fingertips. 

"Chengcheng?" Xukun asks, his voice gentle and quiet. Yanjun looks at Chengcheng. To his great surprise, there are tears in his eyes, and an angry set in his jaw, his brow furrowed deeply. 

"Oh no," whispers Minghao, "I told you not to look at the fucking comments, Cheng-ge!"

"What did they say?" asks Yanjun, a sense of dread settling in his stomach. He knows personally how awful and brutal those comments can be, and he knows Chengcheng gets some of the worst of them, along with Ziyi and Zhangjing. 

"My sister, again." Chengcheng sounds so tired, so dejected, and suddenly Yanjun is reminded of Maotong - another boy who cares far too much about what people think of him. Zhengting sighs. 

"Chengcheng," says Zhengting firmly, and he reaches over to clasp Chengcheng's hands between his own. "Does it really matter what they think? You know the truth, and so do we. We're the ones you're stuck with, and that's what's important. If you're really gonna let it get to you, I'll ask your sister to beat your ass."

Yanjun can't help but snicker. Zhengting doesn't usually strike him as the verbally aggressive type, but then he supposes it might be the only way to get Chengcheng to listen. Chengcheng chuckles as well, and he nods, some happiness returning to his face. 

What Zhengting said was true, though. The nine of them are going to have to start relying on each other for just about anything now. They'll tell each other everything, and they'll trust each other as if they'd been together for years. 

Yanjun looks at Zhangjing. Well, maybe not that much, because Yanjun will never trust anyone like he trusts You Zhangjing. 

Zhangjing is special after all. 

Yanjun hopes for their meeting to be done, but it seem Zhengting is not finished yet. "And holy shit, will Xukun and Ziyi finally work out this weird thing between them?!"

What.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you guys think! comments are always appreciated ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it all ends.
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING: some smut at the end

The thing about Wang Ziyi is that he's far too sincere for his own good. 

Lin Yanjun, being perhaps not the best liar in the world, but definitely an experienced one, can always discern lies from truths. Not even Minghao, who is turning out to be quite the liar, can fool Yanjun. It's something he prides himself in greatly, to be very honest. It's always come in handy, except in this particularly difficult situation. 

It's the case of Wang Ziyi. 

Yanjun, though it irritates him thoroughly, can tell that the affection, the liking - the love, even - that Wang Ziyi displays towards Zhangjing is nothing but genuine, just as Zhangjing truly cares about Ziyi. When Zhangjing tells one of his off-hand jokes, the smile on ZIyi's face is sincerely happy, and when Zhangjing sits curled against his shoulder, Ziyi has a soft sort of look on his face tat cannot be described as anything other than truly loving. 

No, Ziyi has never lied to Zhangjing, or to himself. 

So why is he so difficult to figure out?

Ziyi is happy and comfortable around Zhangjing, but why is he so different around Xukun? Yanjun has been watching ZIyi for several days now - since they got back from America, actually - and he doesn't even know where to begin. He's looking for some kind of hunt as to why Zhangjing and Xukun draw out completely different sides from Ziyi that no one else does, but so far he's been coming up blank. 

He hates not knowing, especially when it comes to Zhangjing. 

However, being back in China is turning out to be incredibly tiring. Between the fanmeets and filming all the advertisements and the practice he barely has time to rest, and it's wearing him down. 

He supposes that's how he ended up in this situation in the first place. He'd mindlessly followed Ziyi back to their hotel rooms, too tired to find the way back on his own, but he'd forgotten to turn right instead of left when he needed to. Ziyi and Xukun's room is in an entirely different corridor, and Yanjun has no business being here, so with the desperate hope that Ziyi hasn't seen him, he creeps back. 

Just as he turns the corner, though, he hears the door open, and something stops him from walking away. 

"So, he hears Xukun say - he must've been the one to open the door, "did you and Zhangjing have  _ fun? _ " His words are slurred and garbled, and his voice bitter and angry - he's drunk, Yanjun realizes, a little meekly, because a sober Xukun would never sat anything while sounding so openly sarcastic and spiteful. 

"Xukun," says Ziyi, his voice hushed and pleading. "What are you-"

"Forget it," snaps Xukun, and Yanjun's brow shoots up in surprise, because he's never heard Xukun sounds so angry - so aggressive. "I guess they were right. You never really were my friend," he says miserably. 

He's trying not to cry, Yanjun can tell. He swallows thickly and decides to risk looking around the corner, his curiosity too great to resist. 

Xukun is leaning against the wall with his shoulders, his face contorted and his eyes brimming with angry tears, while Ziyi stands in front of him, head hung low, eyes helpless and pleading. Yanjun feels kind of bad for him, though he's not really sure why. 

"Kun, you know that's not true," says Ziyi quietly, his voice low and defeated, his arms making some kind of helpless motion, as if they want to come up but ran out of energy half-way. 

"Do I?" Xukun really is crying now. "I mean, you don't talk to me for days and all of a sudden you spend all your time with Zhangjing. You won't even look at me anymore. It's like you never even- like you never even cared about me."

"Xukun, please-"

"No! See if I give a fuck! I don't. You can go to Zhangjing and be happy and shit. I don't care." Xukun's voice is raised, and Yanjun worries momentarily about the other guests in the hotel. Xukun sniffles and wipes the tears from his face with more force than perhaps necessary. "I guess I'll just fuck myself, right? I'll see if Zhengting wants-"

Xukun get cut off, because Ziyi surges forward and grabs his waist, smashing their lips together. 

Ziyi kisses Xukun differently than he kissed Zhangjing. With Zhangjing he was caring and giving and kind and he let Zhangjing set the pace, desperate and vulnerable. He kissed Zhangjing like he was afraid of not giving him enough and giving him too much at the same time. He was restricted - tangled up in his own kindness - and he only tended to what felt good to Zhangjing, with affection and care and want. 

Xukun he kisses with greed. He takes and takes and takes, claiming Xukun's lips as his own and using them accordingly. He's needy and desperate and dominating, his hands firm and controlling on Xukun's hips, his lips setting the pace, taking pleasure and not caring much for giving. 

It's clear to Yanjun who Ziyi wants. 

It fills him with blinding rage, anger coursing through his bloodstream like a freight train, setting his limbs on fire and blurring his vision with red. He feels himself running forward, out from behind the corner, a strange sort of cry ripping from his throat, and before he knows what's happening he's slamming against Ziyi, pushing him away from Xukun. Hard. 

Xukun yelps loudly as Ziyi stumbles back. "Yanjun, what-" Ziyi starts, but Yanjun grabs the front of his jacket and shoves him against the wall. 

"He fucking trusts you!" Yanjun yells through gritted teeth. "He trusts you and you just throw that away!"

It's not fair. It's not  _ fucking  _ fair. Yanjun has wanted Zhangjing longer than Ziyi has known of Zhangjing's existence - he's been pining so embarrassingly much and he's tries so fucking hard to keep Zhangjing as even something as insignificant and crippling and miserable as a friend. Ziyi has the  _ one  _ thing Yanjun has ever wanted - ever  _ needed -  _ and he's throwing that away, treating him like trash and taking him for granted. 

"You fucking piece of shit!" Yanjun bellows, and he slams ZIyi against the wall again for good measure, making ZIyi groan in pain. 

"Yanjun!"

Two pairs of hands grab his arms and drag him away from a dumbfounded ZIyi. Yanjun stumbles and lands hard on his ass, and he groans, but the upcoming insult dies in his throat when he looks up. 

Zhangjing is standing over him, his face unreadable and his hands up defensively. He's panting, as if he ran here, and there's a red flush on his neck - he's angry. 

"What are you doing here?" Xukun asks. 

"I was looking for Yanjun and I heard shouting," answers Zhangjing. 

Silence stretches between them for a short moment, but then Zhangjing clear his throat. 

"Fuck," Zhangjing says, huffing out a breath through his nose and running a hand over his hair. "Ziyi, I'm so sorry."

Wait, what.

"It's fine," says Ziyi, looking more bewildered than anything else. Xukun takes his hand, and Zhangjing smiles softly at them,

"About time," Zhangjing mutters, and Xukun blushes, but Ziyi just smiles. Yanjun looks on, more confused than he's ever been in his life. "Yanjun, come on."

Zhangjing holds up a hand to help Yanjun up, and Yanjun takes it, but Zhangjing lets him go immediately after Yanjun stands, as if Yanjun's hands burn his skin. Yanjun pretends that doesn't hurt. 

Without another word Zhangjing spins on his his heel and walks off, leaving Yanjun to follow, which he does. Before they turn the corner to their own corridor Yanjun glances back, just in time to see Ziyi and Xukun stumbling into their room, lips never parting. Yanjun is oddly jealous. 

Yanjun wants to scream, because why the hell is Zhangjing so calm? He's acting like this doesn't affect him at all - as if he didn't just see Ziyi blatantly cheat in front of him. Ziyi acted like he didn't care about Zhangjing, in front of Zhangjing, and Zhangjing really doesn't have anything to say about that? It doesn't make any sense - Yanjun thought the two of them were basically smitten, as much as it hurts him to admit. 

Zhangjing keys open the door to their room and steps inside, toeing off his shoes and and flicking the lights on with a sigh. 

"Zhangjing, what the hell?!" Yanjun bursts as soon as the door is closed, striding into the room and coming to a halt just in front of ZHangjing, who merely quirks up an eyebrow in.. amusement?

"Yanjun," says Zhangjing cooly. "Ziyi and I aren't together."

"What?"

"We never were."

Yanjun is silent for some time, merely frowning down at Zhangjing - he undoubtedly looks like an idiot, but he really couldn't care less. This is a lot to process. 

"That one time you walked in on was just that one time. We were vulnerable and upset about different things and things got out of hand from there."

Yanjun wants to ask what Zhangjing was upset about, but he doesn't."

"What about all that- uh..." Yanjun trails off, looking for the right word, "affection, then? You guys were all over each other when we were in America."

"Really? Well, I don't really think I was much touchier with him than I was with anyone else."

Yanjun splutters. "And all that whispering and shit?" He doesn't mean to sound so rude, but he really wants an explanation on why he thought Zhangjing and ZIyi were together. He could've spent all that time together with Zhangjing without feeling like he was pulling Zhangjing away from ZIyi, even if that was his intention. 

For the first time, Zhangjing averts his eyes. "Ah, about that," he says, twisting his fingers together. "Um, Ziyi is the only one who really understands, y'know?"

Yanjun feels his blood run cold.

It's not that big of a deal, even, but even the possibility of having Zhangjing feel guilty about having a safehaven for even a second disgusts him, and Yanjun is disgusted with himself, because he's truly a fucking awful friend. 

"Shit, Jing, I'm sorry."

"You better be," Zhangjing says sharply. He looks Yanjun in the eye again, and Yanjun can tell Zhangjing is still angry. "You better apologize to ZIyi and Xukun as soon as you can."

Yanjun nods. 

Zhangjing and Ziyi aren't together. 

Yanjun stands there for a moment, because he's not entirely sure what to feel right now. Does this mean he doesn't have to wait that long? Or does this mean he's so far stuck as a friend that he'll have to wait forever? Why didn't Zhangjing tell him? Yanjun hasn't refrained from putting his arm around Zhangjing's shoulder, or leaning in to whisper an inside joke in his ear, because it was mostly a habit, but he's been limiting the little touches he used to give Zhangjing. Does this mean he can go back to that now?

When they get ready for bed that night, Yanjun feels lighter than he has in weeks. 

* * *

 

Yanjun is slowly starting to figure things out. 

He was confused for some time - there was a wave of incoming information that gave him a strange sense of hope and hopelessness at the same time, and then there were signs that pointed in opposing directions - but it's all coming together in a hazy, stained picture perhaps worn down by age. The image itself is confusing too, but no endlessly so, and Yanjun is still picking up pieces as he goes. There are times when the image seems to clear up a little, but then it goes blurry again, and Yanjun has to start over again. It's frustrating, yes, but he promised he'd be patient, so he works through it all. 

For example, now. The nine of them - Yanjun doubted his ability to get close to them initially, but he's actually starting to enjoy the fact that they're always together - are in the Yuehua room, chatting happily about their fanmeet of the day. Chengcheng and Minghao roar with laughter at almost every joke Linkai cracks, and Nongnong, Zhengting and Zhangjing are giggling endlessly at some inside joke. Yanjun switches between the two groups effortlessly, his sides aching from laughing so much. 

Ziyi and Xukun are in their own world. Yanjun doesn't blame them - he knows he two of them have barely gotten to sit like this, wrapped up in each other's arms and giggling softly between hushed whispers. He has apologized since the last misunderstanding, and he's happy for them. It's so, so different from Zhangjing and Ziyi, too, because it's like the rest of the room doesn't even exist to them anymore. Yanjun catches Zhangjing smiling at them, his expression always so fond. 

Ziyi and Xukun's relationship is no secret in the group either, so most of them pay the two no mind. 

"I can't believe you told Chengcheng to do that," says Nongnong, giggling and lightly slapping Zhangjing's shoulder. Zhangjing laughs too, his eyes scrunching up and his head thrown back against Zhengting's shoulder. Yanjun grins.

Of course, when Zhangjing had suggested Chengcheng lie on top of him to pop a balloon, Yanjun hadn't exactly been giddy. He'd been surprised and kind of jealous, but it's making Zhangjing laugh even now, so he's absolutely alright with it, even if  he wishes he were the one on top of Zhangjing. Besides, the jokes between Chengcheng and Zhangjing are always like this - teasing and funny for everyone around, if not a little self-deprecating. 

"This just proves that Chengcheng is fatter than Zhangjing!" Minghao bellows, and Zhangjing and Nongnong are shrieking with laughter. Yanjun can see Ziyi twitch at that comment, though, and Yanjun bites his lip to keep from saying anything. As long as Zhangjing knows it's a joke, the two of them will have to be alright with it. 

"This proves that my love for Zhangjing is greater than Yanjun's," Chengcheng grumbles. 

There it is. Another piece. 

Yanjun might be looking into things that aren't there - he's fully aware that he's pretty desperate, and he's wanted this for far too long - but he swears he sees Zhangjing's smile slip away for a split second, and the pink in his ears brighten. It's gone quickly - if Yanjun had blinked, he would've missed it - but it was there and it pointed in the right direction. He doesn't want to hope, but he does, because  _fuck it_ he's wanted this for so long and he's suffered far too much not to hope by now. 

Yanjun isn't fazed by Chengcheng's joke. Everyone in the room - save the lovebirds and Zhangjing - know about it, and everyone except Chengcheng and Minghao generally avoid the topic. It might be that Zhangjing will think nothing of it by the time he goes to sleep, or maybe he will - Yanjun decides it doesn't matter what Zhangjing does or doesn't pick up on. When Yanjun is ready, he'll say it. 

Except he's been telling himself hat for years now, and he's never done it. He's had thoughts like this before - moments when he hoped more than usual, when he saw things that weren't there after a particular drought of happiness - and they never turned out well for him, because the more he hoped the harder he got smacked down, and he'd be back where he'd started, yearning for someone who called him a friend. 

"Don't worry, I love you more than I love Yanjun anyway," says Zhangjing, patting Chengcheng on the head with a playful smile. Chengcheng laughs good-naturedly, but Minghao's eyes flick to Yanjun's with all the mischief in the world. The bastard. 

"Guys!" Minghao says loudly. Yanjun fears for his life. "Guys, I'm bored. Let's play something."

"Minghao, we're not kids," says Zhengting - god bless this man, because Yanjun can already tell exactly what Minghao is up to and he is vehemently against the mere idea of it. 

"No, I think it's a good idea," says Zhangjing, and Yanjun knows he's lost, because the team is never one to deny each other anything, especially when their oldest says it's a good idea, even when it really isn't. "I mean, we play games for the fans, but that's in front of the camera and everything."

"Yeah!" says Minghao. "Let's get to know each other and play truth or dare." He winks at Yanjun then, and it's the most obvious thing in the world, but Yanjun plays along, because it would be suspicious for him to pull away now. Everyone knows he loves truth or dare, after all. 

"Fine," says Zhengting with a sigh, and they all get into a circle, cleaved through by the space between the beds. Xukun and Ziyi disentangle themselves to play, but Ziyi still sits with his arm slung around Xukun's shoulder. It really is cute, but Yanjun fears for the two of them with Minghao's clever tricks in the same general vicinity. 

"Alright," says Linong, "I'll go first." He smiles - not the dumb, innocent smile he usually wears but a playful one. One with intention. "Zhengting-ge! Truth or dare!"

"Truth," Zhengting says, his annoyance betrayed by an expectant look on his face. Minghao groans and Chengcheng scoffs, but Zhengting ignores them. 

"Who were you closest to on the last show?"

Zhengting splutters. "Uh, MInghao, of course." He's lying and everyone knows it. 

"Liar!" Minghao screeches, and jesus, this kid really needs to learn to tone it down sometimes. Yanjun thinks he hears ringing in his ears. "We all know it was Eunki-ge!"

"Don't say 'ge'," Zhengting says, frowning. "It sound weird with his name."

Yanjun sees Chengcheng and Minghao smile knowingly at each other, and Nongnong and Zhangjing start to giggle. They must know who Eunki is, but Yanjun doesn't. Judging from the bright red color of Zhengting's ears, he doesn't want anyone knowing either. 

"Fine, your turn," says Yanjun, hoping to save Zhengting from being humiliated. Zhengting smiles at him, grateful, and turns to Minghao, obviously hoping to exact revenge. 

"Minghao," he says, and there's a devilish smile on his face that even Yanjun is impressed by. Minghao swallows visibly. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," Minghao says, and Yanjun knows he's made a mistake.

Zhengting grins. "I dare you to... woo Yanjun for a whole song."

Yanjun groans. Why does he always get stuck with this?

Minghao seems relieved at first, and then he smirks, pulling out his phone. 

The first few notes of Kunkun's song ring out and everyone is a rolling, laughing mess on the floor, collectively hollering and clutching at their sides as Minghao puts on the most ridiculous show, swinging his exaggeratedly and pulling the strangest faces, climbing on top of Yanjun and gripping at his throat. 

"Where did you learn all that?" Yanjun says between gasps, wiping happy tears from his eyes after the song finishes. Minghao merely winks and sits back on his spot, his face beet red. 

"Ah, I've been traumatized," says Chengcheng, rubbing at his sides with a huge grin on his face. "Minghao, your turn."

"Linkai-ge!"

"Dare."

"I dare you to lick the underside of Kun-ge's foot," says Minghao. Yanjun shivers - this kid really is pure evil.

"Ew, no. Can I switch to truth?"

"Yeah," says Zhengting, disgust written on his face. "That's gross. Let him do truth."

"Fine. Rand the members scariest to least scary."

Yanjun hums. It's actually a pretty good truth, especially for Linkai. It's a well-known fact that everyone was a little scared of Linkai - save perhaps the Gramarie boys and Bufan - so to hav him rank who's scariest should be interesting. 

Yanjun comes first. He's actually not that surprised. He is probably easiest to anger and he knows he doesn't look particularly approachable upon first side. Zhengting ranks right after him, which is also no surprise, because they've witnessed Zhengting's wrath by now, and they know it's full of all kinds of petty. 

"And last is Zhangjing-ge," says Linkai. Yanjun raises an amused eyebrow. "Because seeing him angry is actually kind of cute."

Yanjun snickers. "You guys have never seen him angry." It's true. Even during their fight, Zhangjing wasn't really angry - he was more upset than anything else. You Zhangjing doesn't get angry easily. He cries and he gets upset easily, but anger is something Yanjun has only witnessed from Zhangjing once, and it still sends shivers down his spine. 

"Yeah?" Nongnong says with a smile. He looks at Zhangjing, who in turns glares at Yanjun, silently telling him to shut the hell up. "You have, then?"

"Yes. And I can say with confidence that he's the scariest here." Yanjun laughs at the face Zhangjing makes. It's as if he tasted something unpleasantly sour or bitter. 

"When?" Chengcheng asks. Yanjun around the room. They're all listening quite intently, obviously interested in their past together. He laughs. 

"Oh, it must've been around a year or so ago?" Yanjun says, and he's fully grinning now, because Zhangjing looks so annoyed now, and it's adorable. He wants to see more of it. "Zhangjing, Maotong and I shared a dorm, but most of the time weren't at home."

"You shared a dorm?!" Zhengting shrieks. He's not very subtle, and Yanjun hates him for it. It's not like it's much of a surprise, either, but it seems everyone except Nongnong just wants to make his life miserable. 

"Yes, keep up. Anyway, usually I skyped with my father when nobody else was there, but Zhangjing just happened to be home the same time my dad said I was wasting my time in this industry."

Yanjun doesn't miss the way Zhangjing's eyes darken at the memory. To be honest, Yanjun can laugh about it now, but it had been something that plagued him for a long time. In their monthly evaluations, he never ranked as high as Zhangjing, and it had been inciting doubt at the same time his dad was trying to get him to come back home. Zhangjing is still angry about it to this day, Yanjun knows. 

"Anyway, Zhangjing... told my dad that I wasn't wasting my time - in a sense." Yanjun chuckles, and Zhangjing snorts. It really hadn't been very pretty. Yanjun doubts his father ever had anyone speak to him the way Zhangjing did, and Yanjun knows he'll never be able to forget it. In all honestly, he'd been terrified - both on his father's part and his own - incredibly turned on, and hopelessly falling even deeper for Zhangjing. 

"I'm..." Nongnong begins, and he pauses, looking for the right words, "honestly not that surprised. I mean, it seems like something Zhangjing would get angry over."

The others laugh, but Yanjun stays quiet. 

If he thinks about it - and he always does - he realizes that he's only ever seen Zhangjing get angry on his behalf. Zhangjing, who yelled at Yanjun's father for not believing in his sown, always sticks up for Yanjun. Zhangjing, who has gone on a path of self-destruction twice now because he thought he'd been left behind by Yanjun, is smiling along with the others now, but Yanjun can tell it's fake, because when  _can't_ he tell. 

It's like his insides have been set on fire when he finally realizes that Zhangjing cares so much about him - he'll tell him not to do something if it makes him uncomfortable, he'll compliment him endlessly when he knows Yanjun isn't feeling his best, he'll tell Yanjun to stop when he knows it's all become too much. Zhangjing cares about him and that's all Yanjun cares about. He's known it before but he only realizes it now. 

It's the best feeling in the world. 

"Uh," says Xukun. "Whose turn is it?"

"Mine," says Linkai. He takes a deep breath and scans all the faces in the room. "Hmm. Zhangjing-ge, truth or dare."

Linkai is out to kill Yanjun too, it seems.

"Truth," says Zhangjing without hesitation. Yanjun expects Minghao to groan, but he doesn't. Of course he doesn't - he probably already knows what Linkai is going to ask. 

"Have you ever dated anybody, and how far did you go with them?"

Yanjun shoots Linkai a glare he hopes freezes his insides, but Linkai just smiles cheekily. He's about to say that Zhangjing doesn't have to answer if he doesn't want to, but then he fears he might make this all worse, so he stays quiet. 

"Yeah," says Zhangjing. Yanjun's head whips up - he's never heard of any boyfriend. Then again, the fact that it was probably a  _boyfriend_ is likely the reason why he's never heard about him. "In high-school."

"And?" Linkai says.

"Well, we didn't really like each other that much, but we had sex, if that's what you mean."

Yanjun chokes on his breath. He splutters and coughs, all the while being very aware of the amused expressions in the room. Zhangjing laughs at him, but it's a nervous laughter - Yanjun can tell. 

Tears sting in his eyes by the time he's regained his breath, and Minghao is trying not to laugh at him, which Yanjun hates him for. 

"Well," says Nongnong, "that really wasn't the answer I expected." Zhangjing giggles shyly. 

"What?" he says, feigning innocence. Ziyi is the only one who doesn't look surprised - he knew, Yanjun realizes disgruntedly. 

He knows about the situation between Ziyi and Zhangjing now, but he can't help but feel a little betrayed. Ziyi, it seems, knows so much more about Zhangjing than he does, while he's known Zhangjing for so much longer. It's as Zhangjing said - he shouldn't feel entitled to Zhangjing's life, but a part of him still feels that he should know. Though he hates it, the feeling is there, and he knows he won't be able to hide it. 

He knows Zhangjing can see it, because Zhangjing's gaze flickers over his face a few times, never lingering but still checking to make sure he isn't upset. Yanjun bites down on the inside of his cheek. Zhangjing shouldn't have to do that. Yanjun shouldn't be upset in the first place. 

"Is it my turn now?" Zhangjing asks. The whole room still seems a little stunned at his reply - no doubt they all thought he was too innocent and naive to even mention sex. To be honest, Yanjun is quite surprised Zhangjing was able to state it so matter-of-factly. 

"Uh." Xukun scrapes his throat. "Yeah."

"Cool," Zhangjing says, as if he didn't just drop the biggest bomb on them. "Then, Yanjun."

Yanjun tries to keep his face impassive, but he's barely managing to contain his nerves, dread settling in his stomach. He wants Zhangjing to ask him something risky - something that might lead to him being exposed - but at the same time he doesn't, because that would mean saying stuff, and what if Zhangjing shows another sign that points in the wrong direction?

"Truth."

He's always liked truth more, anyway. You can always do so much more damage with a truth. 

"Have you ever really, really liked someone?"

Yanjun manages to hide his surprise, even if the others don't. Zhangjing is never so upfront. Yanjun likes it - a lot. 

"You mean love?" Yanjun asks. 

"Not necessarily."

"Well the, yeah, I guess." He manages to say it calmly, casually, but he's suddenly hyperfocused on Zhangjing's face - his reactions, the emotions his eyes might betray. 

For a moment he thinks all Zhangjing is going to do is smile - be normal about it all. 

"Cold as usual, Lin Yanjun," teases Nongnong, and everyone laughs. 

There. 

A split second of doubt that crosses Zhangjing's face. He looks down at his hands for a second, brow furrowed, and then he smiles again, but it's enough for Yanjun to know. 

Zhangjing always has been far better at hiding emotions than Yanjun. He just doesn't do it very often. He's still hard to read though, and if Yanjun weren't so finely tuned to Zhangjing he would've missed it. Still, that slight flicker of emotions - the doubt, the regret - is like a flashing beacon, drawing attention to one very important fact from miles and miles away. 

Zhangjing doesn't like being kept in the dark. He wants to know who Yanjun likes just as much as Yanjun wants to know about Zhangjing's high school sweetheart. 

It's another hint. 

Yanjun sighs. 

He makes decision. 

He's been trying to figure everything out since he came to know about Ziyi and Xukun - so several days - and he's finally, finally come to a conclusion. It may be a faulty one, but at this point he really doesn't care. He can't hide anymore. 

You Zhangjing cares about Lin Yanjun. 

He does so many things to show it, but until now Yanjun has managed to be blind to them. He would obsess over one gesture of Zhangjing's, and he would never notice all the others piling up. 

First, it's the relentless compliments. Yanjun is used to getting compliments from people - they tell him he's handsome, that he's a good rapper, that he can dance - but they always stop after a while. They think that if they keep going, he'll become vain and narcissistic. Zhangjing has never thought like that. He's never stopped saying Yanjun is a caring person, that he can sing and write nice songs, that he's funny. He doesn't care if it all goes to Yanjun's head - he might even want it to. He's always been pointing out the things that Yanjun isn't confident about, and he says they're fine, that they're good, even. 

Zhangjing truly believes in him. When others - including Yanjun - doubt him, which happens so often, Zhangjing is always there, ready to defend him even from himself. He's so protective of Yanjun, and Yanjun always counts on Zhangjing to make him feel better. Zhangjing hurts on his behalf. When Yanjun's father was pushing his hardest, Zhangjing had snapped and yelled and screamed and Yanjun had hid behind him, because he wasn't strong like Zhangjing, and he could never do that. 

Then, it's the endless little touches. Zhangjing is close with everyone, and he likes hugs and comforting contact between friends, but Yanjun likes to think he does a little more to Yanjun. Maybe it's because Zhangjing is the only one Yanjun allowed to touch him at first, or it's because Zhangjing just feels more comfortable touching Yanjun. He'll do it when he's shy, as if he's reassuring himself, but he'll also do it when he knows Yanjun isn't feeling his best. He's always there, fingers grazing over Yanjun's shoulder or arm slithering around his waist, comforting and warm. 

But most of all it's the way Zhangjing looks at him. Whenever Yanjun catches Zhangjing's eyes there's always a little glint there - call it affection, love, whatever - but it's there and Yanjun can't get enough of it. Zhangjing says everything with his eyes, and Yanjun understands him perfectly, because this is the language they invented so long ago. It's exclusive - Yanjun can't read anyone like he can read Zhangjing, and nobody understands him like Zhangjing does. And Zhangjing can do everything with just his gaze. He can make Yanjun feel like he's been set on fire, desire pulsing through him like a freight train, unstoppable and insatiable; or he can make Yanjun feel safe; or ice cold. Zhangjing's eyes are Yanjun's home, a place where nobody can touch him. 

But none of that matters. Yanjun has decided so. It doesn't matter anymore how Zhangjing feels about him. Zhangjing could hate him after all this, and Yanjun still wouldn't stay take back what he will say. 

Because the only thing that matters is how Zhangjing makes Yanjun feel. 

Yanjun has never been one to run away from his feelings - he's never denied that he wants to feel Zhangjing's hands on his skin, that he wants Zhangjing's lips against his own and Zhangjing's body in his arms. He's always known that Zhangjing makes him feel...  _something._

This weird, intense feeling that washed over him back then hasn't left. He still feels it, tightening his heart and sending reeling whenever he sees Zhangjing. 

Yanjun's heart doesn't flutter anymore - that was something that passed quickly. He doesn't get nervous or sweaty whenever Zhangjing is around. They're far too familiar for that. His heart still races, though. There are times when Zhangjing is focused on something - he'll lean forward, eyebrows just a little and lips slightly parted. His eyes will seem dazed, but they won't be, and his ears will be sharper than ever. That's when it really hits Yanjun hard, because that's when Zhangjing is most beautiful. Not when he's smiling, not when he's crying, not when he seems at peace - only when he's intensely focused. It makes Yanjun's skin itch and his heart thud wildly against his ribs. 

With Zhangjing he feels something that's different from anyone else. Not even the dozen girls he's been with hive him the kind of kick Zhangjing does. He's like an addict - high on Zhangjing's affection, a maniac when he doesn't get it. With Zhangjing everything is new and yet so exciting, because while Yanjun can almost always predict what Zhangjing will say or do, Zhangjing still manages to surprise him at every turn. 

He's never wanted to be near someone this much. Without Zhangjing, there's always something missing. He loves his friends, and they truly make him happy, but with Zhangjing he's free, and yet with Zhangjing he restricts himself, because he doesn't dare step into Zhangjing's bad side. 

"Alright," Yanjun says, "my turn."

The room falls quiet. Maybe they can see he's up to something, maybe they're just tired, but even Minghao is watching with his breath held, it seems. Maybe Yanjun is just delusional.

"You Zhangjing, truth or dare?"

It's against the rules, and everyone knows it. They're not supposed to ask the person who went just before them. And yet nobody says anything. They watch, and the tension in the air is nearly palpable - there's no way for anyone to miss it now. Yanjun leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes locked on Zhangjing with intent. 

"Truth."

The corners of Yanjun's mouth tug up against his will, and he tugs them back down. This is what he wanted. 

"What do you like about me?"

Zhangjing remains composed - maybe he doesn't feel anything, Yanjun wouldn't know - but Yanjun knows he's asked the right question. He sees Ziyi tense, his usual dopey, friendly stare replaced by something dangerous and - honestly - terrifying. Warning comes off him in waves, and Minghao next to him shifts uncomfortably, unused to this darker, intense Ziyi. Ziyi is threatening now, hostility and anger in the air, but Yanjun ignores him. 

"Nothing. Is that good enough?" Zhangjing says, rolling his eyes.

"No. Try again." Yanjun knows he's pushing it. If he goes any further than this, he's afraid Ziyi might deck him in the face. Fear pulses through his veins - he knows Ziyi is far stronger and bigger - but there's excitement there, because he's so close to the answer. 

Now Zhangjing does falter. He opens his mouth and closes it again, and slight frown appearing on his face. Yanjun waits. Zhangjing averts his gaze. 

"Come one, Zhangjing," says Yanjun darkly. "Why do you like me?

Yanjun knows he said the wrong this far before Ziyi opens his mouth. 

Zhangjing's eyes snap up, and they're filled with something Yanjun rarely ever sees. He can see the fear, the resentment and the regret all shining through at one, powerful and overwhelming, knocking all the air out of him. He knows. 

"Yanjun, he answered your question - just move on!" Ziyi snaps, a second too late. 

The room falls into a deathly silence. Yanjun can't look at Zhangjing anymore, because he's afraid that if he does, he'll just burst. The others won't meet his gaze either, fiddling with the edges of the sheets or running their fingers through their hair, quite pointedly staying out of the affair. Ziyi has fire in his eyes, and Yanjun understands, because he asked a stupid thing that he shouldn't have asked, but at least he knows now. He knows for sure. 

Does he?

"Zhangjing, can I talk to you for a moment?" Yanjun asks, already standing up. Zhangjing looks up at him, but Yanjun doesn't look back. The silence is ringing in his ears, deafening and blinding and gagging him, seeming to stretch into infinity. 

"Okay."

Yanjun almost sighs in relief. 

Yanjun turns and walks towards the door. Just before he can make it outside the room he hears Zhangjing whisper to Ziyi, "It's okay," before following Yanjun out the door. 

They walk to their room in silence, Zhangjing trailing a little ways behind Yanjun, but close nonetheless. Yanjun can feel his heart speed up as their draw closer to their door, doubts starting to etch into his mind, gnawing his brain raw. 

He rubs his hands against his trousers to wipe away the sweat before keying open the door, holding it for Zhangjing to pass through first. Zhangjing slips past him wordlessly, coming to a stop at the foot of his bed, standing in the dark room. 

Yanjun doesn't bother turning on the lights. He doesn't really wants Zhangjing to see his face, and the light from the street is enough for him to see Zhangjing's.

Zhangjing is fidgeting, Yanjun observes as he closes the door. His hands are clasped in front of him, twitching nervously, as if he's restrained them from twisting up in his shirt. 

Zhangjing won't look at him. His eyes are cast down, his pretty eyelashes nearly resting against his cheeks, and his fingers peek out from too-long sleeves, and the lights from the street make his face seems paler than is really is. He's pretty - unfairly so, and Yanjun's breath hitches a little, because he's really standing here, and Yanjun really made the decision. 

"Tell me about high school," says Yanjun. He knows Zhangjing is uncomfortable, so he tries to distract him. Zhangjing sighs softly, and Yanjun's curiosity peaks.

"There was a guy," says Zhangjing after a moment. Yanjun keeps his distance, leaning against the wall with his shoulder. "I liked him - maybe I loves him, I don't know. It really wasn't his fault - we were friends and he didn't know, but I was naive and started looking into things that weren't meant to be looked into. Anyway, the day I meant to fess up I saw him with this girl. I was young and heartbroken, and I went to the only other guy who I knew to be like me. We dated, in secret - I think I did it just to say I was dating  _someone_ \- and we fucked, but neither of us were really into it."

Yanjun clenches his jaw, filled with a sudden anger - to the boy who was so blind not to see Zhangjing's love - and pity - to Zhangjing, who had to grow up in such a cruel world. Yanjun likes girls, but he likes boys, too. There's been a few times when Yanjun thought a boy was particularly good looking - Ding Zeren, for example - but he's never acted on it, because he's always liked girls that much more. Zhangjing never had anywhere to hide, so to say. 

"I'm sorry - about the other question too," says Yanjun. He doesn't know if Zhangjing knows what he's apologizing for, but it doesn't matter. Zhangjing will know, in good time, just how sorry Yanjun is for leaving him to suffer alone. 

"You shouldn't have asked me that," mutters Zhangjing quietly, but there's no anger or resentment in his voice now. His voice is small and vulnerable, the way Yanjun has never gotten used to. 

"Why not?" Yanjun asks, and he sounds breathless even to his own ears. He steps closer, closer to Zhangjing, without really thinking about it. Zhangjing doesn't back away. 

"Because," whispers Zhangjing hoarsely, "I wouldn't know what to say."

This time Yanjun  _is_ aware. He crowds into Zhangjing's space, and Zhangjing still isn't looking at him, but that's alright, because Yanjun is selfish and he's going to say whatever he wants from now on.

He's wanted this for far too long, and he's too close now to keep silent. 

So he leans in, bumping his nose against Zhangjing's cheek, prompting him to look up, and as he hears Zhangjing's breath hitch, he presses their lips together. 

Yanjun has kisses a lot of people - good kissers and bad kissers and people who could make him feel alive with just their lips. He's thought about kissing Zhangjing  _many_ times, but he never expected it to feel so... normal. 

It barely feels like anything at all. 

So Yanjun pulls away, but he leans in and kisses him again, and this time Zhangjing meets him, kissing him back, but it still doesn't feel quite right. They're holding back, Zhangjing doesn't like it, or maybe they're doing this all wrong - Yanjun doesn't know but it's not good. 

They break apart, and Yanjun looks at him. Zhangjing doesn't look at Yanjun. Yanjun takes both Zhangjing's hands in his own, and leans down to rest his forehead against Zhangjing's. Yanjun wants him to see. 

So he breathes, "Hey," and waits for Zhangjing to look up at him. He does, and Yanjun kisses him a third time. 

Something clicks this time. It feels nice - Zhangjing's lips are slightly chapped against his own, and it feels right.  _Fuck,_ it feels so good. Yanjun feels as if he's been set on fire, his lips locked perfectly with Zhangjing's, want and need and happiness spreading through his like a plague - Zhangjing has heard his confession and he's accepting it. And Zhangjing is kissing his back, and Yanjun feels his mind go blank, because it feels so,  _so_ much better than he'd ever imagined. 

Then Zhangjing makes some kind of noise - a quiet sort of moan that reverberates through Yanjun's entire body - and Yanjun loses his grip on the last ounces of his self control. He pushes closer to Zhangjing, kisses him harder, bringing his hands up to cup the sides of his face. And Zhangjing lets him, wrapping his arms around Yanjun's middle, letting himself be pushed back until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and they go tumbling down together. Zhangjing giggles against his mouth, and  _jesus,_ this is what heaven should feel like. 

Yanjun doesn't ever want to pull away, so he lets himself settle on top of Zhangjing, but then Zhangjing wraps his legs around Yanjun's middle, and Yanjun thinks he might just die. 

Zhangjing's hands skim over his back, light and fleeting, as if Yanjun is something fragile he's trying not to break. Yanjun releases Zhangjing's face and his hands travel down, over Zhangjing's chest, to his sides, down to the hem of his shirt. When Yanjun's fingers graze under Zhangjing's shirt, Zhangjing gasps and pulls away. 

"Wait. Slow down a little," he says breathlessly. Yanjun nods and kisses him again, hesitantly this time, but Zhangjing pushes back against him, urging him on, so he lets Zhangjing take over. he does effortlessly, and Yanjun is turned on beyond belief. Still, he takes it slow, only letting his fingers return to the hem of Zhangjing's shirt once he's been given a silent permission. 

Zhangjing doesn't like being shirtless. He usually turns his back to Yanjun when he dresses - embarrassed, probably. So Yanjun kisses him while he pushes Zhangjing's shirt up, letting his hands travel over Zhangjing's stomach, over his chest - he wants there to be no doubt that every muscle, every soft spot, every crevice is so, so  _fucking_ attractive to Yanjun. 

Once Zhangjing's shirt is off, Yanjun quickly strips off his own and pushes their bodies flush together, his hips nestled against Zhangjing's, their lips locked. It would feel wrong to pull away from Zhangjing now, it seems. Yanjun has no intention of doing so anyway. However, he feels himself getting impatient quickly - he needs to be as close as possible, needs to taste every bit of Zhangjing, explore every inch of him. After years of waiting, of yearning, he's fucking greedy. 

Yanjun can't help it. He pulls away and buries his face in Zhangjing's neck, whispering, "Fuck, I'm gonna go crazy."

"Yanjun," Zhangjing says, as Yanjun flicks his tongue over his vein, gasping softly, body going tense under Yanjun's touch. It's so fucking sexy. "Yanjun, I-I... it's been a while."

Yanjun sits up, alarmed. He looks down at Zhangjing's flushed cheeks, his blown pupils and insecure eyes.  _Fuck._

"Was high school your last time?" Yanjun asks, and he's suddenly glad that they're able to have this conversation. This means it's not just meaningless - Zhangjing wants this in the same way Yanjun does. 

Zhangjing nods. "Fuck," says Yanjun breathlessly. "It won't be like that," he says, and he knows how stupid and cliche he sounds, but it's true and he needs Zhangjing to know. 

"Baby, I'll make it feel good."

Zhangjing nods and Yanjun smiles, because  _god,_ it's not fair - Zhangjing has him in a death grip and Yanjun cannot fight back at all. 

Yanjun leans in again, but he doesn't go for Zhangjing's lips this time. He moves down to Zhangjing's collarbone, fierce determination flowing through his veins, and he sucks and bites the skin, basking in Zhangjing's little gasps and moans. 

He moves down slowly, giving Zhangjing enough time to push him away if he wanted to. He never does. Yanjun trails kisses along the middle of Zhangjing's chest, down to his belly button, stopping just at the waistband of his jeans, Yanjun's hands firm on his hips. Yanjun looks up, his fingers in the belt loops of Zhangjing's pants, only to find Zhangjing staring back, eyes dark and hooded with lust and want. Yanjun feels his breath hitch. 

"Can I..." Yanjun trails off. He's thought about doing this for so long, but now that he's here he's incredibly nervous. He's never done this with a man before - he just knows what feels good and what doesn't. He hopes that will be enough. 

Zhangjing wordlessly nods, his mouth slightly agape, his breath already coming in quick gasps. Yanjun smiles and starts tugging Zhangjing's pants down, leaving him in his boxers. Zhangjing lifts up his hips to help, and once they're off Yanjun peppers light kisses over his thighs, his hips and over his little happy trail.

Above him, Zhangjing whimpers as Yanjun slowly works off his boxers too, his hands gripping in the sheets and his body trembling beneath Yanjun's lips. To Yanjun's satisfaction, Zhangjing is hard too, precome already beading at the tip of his cock.

"Relax," whispers Yanjun, though he's tense as hell himself, because what if he does it wrong? What if he's no better than the boy from Zhangjing's school? He's speaking with confidence he doesn't have, but Zhangjing does relax a little, so it's fine. 

Yanjun licks a stripe on the underside of Zhangjing's cock, from the base to the tip, and Zhangjing jolts his hands flying to Yanjun's hair. Yanjun moans despite himself, because _fuck,_ that's really hot _,_ and he takes Zhangjing into his mouth, far too impatient to tease. 

Zhangjing moans, loudly, and Yanjun can't take it anymore. He undoes his own pants, tugging them down just low enough to free his own achingly hard cock. He takes in more of Zhangjing, hollowing his cheeks and flattening his tongue along Zhangjing's length, pumping himself as he goes. Zhangjing arches his back as Yanjun sucks, his hands gripping Yanjun's hair in a way that is almost painful, moaning and whimpering as Yanjun starts to move. 

Having a cock in his mouth is  _exhilarating,_ and difficult and painful and Yanjun loves it. Suddenly he has far more respect for all the girls he put this through. 

Yanjun pumps himself harder as Zhangjing slowly starts to become undone, moaning around Zhangjing and gripping onto Zhangjing's hips with his free hand. It's all too much - Zhangjing feels too good in his mouth, and Yanjun is far too weak for this. Zhangjing's sounds are like bolts of lightning being struck in him every time, and Yanjun feels that familiar pool of arousal start to build in his lower abdomen. 

" _Yanjun,_ fuck, I'm gonna-" Zhangjing's voice sounds ragged and broken and breathless and fucking hot and Yanjun becomes undone, pulling off Zhangjing to moan against his hip, his other hand wrapping around Zhangjing's cock to finish him off. Zhangjing comes with a drawn-out moan, spilling over Zhangjing's hand and onto his shoulder, his back arching up beautifully. 

Yanjun crawls up and collapses next to Zhangjing after the last waves of his orgasm have ripped through him, spent and exhausted. He lasted an embarrassingly short time, but he doesn't care, because it felt so, so good, and he was with Zhangjing. 

With his mind in a foggy and sedated daze, he pulls Zhangjing against him, Zhangjing's face pressed against his chest, their legs tangling together and Yanjun's arms wrapping safely around Zhangjing's body. Zhangjing lets him, sighing deeply and wrapping his arms around Yanjun's waist, his breath evening out quickly. 

He doesn't mean to, but he drifts to sleep fairly soon after that, happier than he's been in a long time. 

* * *

 

Yanjun wakes to the sound of soft sniffling several hours later. The bed is cold and empty, and Yanjun's belt is digging into his skin. In all his haste get himself off, and then his post-orgasm sedation he'd neglected to take his pants off, and he's uncomfortable now, but too lazy to change anything about, so he tugs them up and zips closed. 

He sits up, a groan dying in his throat when he hears the sniffling again, much more clearly this time. It's coming from the bathroom, where he hears water running as well, and Yanjun knows immediately that something is wrong, so he gets up, not bothering to put on a shirt before he walks to the bathroom. 

The door is open, and inside is Zhangjing, leaning on the sink, dressed only in his boxers, the tap running and hickeys blooming bright and red on his collarbone and his neck - Yanjun remembers putting them there. Yanjun leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. Zhangjing isn't crying. His face is wet and he's sniffling every few seconds, but he's not crying. 

"Are you sick?" Yanjun asks, and Zhangjing jumps a little, obviously to caught up in his own thoughts to notice Yanjun. 

"What? No," says Zhangjing, and he's trying to sound casual, but his voice is tense and Yanjun can see through it immediately. 

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing," says Zhangjing. Yanjun sighs. Something is obviously wrong, and it's got something to do with Yanjun, so Yanjun needs to know. Zhangjing, however, just brushes past Yanjun and walks into the room. Yanjun follows him and watches him pull a sweater over his head, an uneasy feeling of dread settling into his stomach. 

"If you don't tell me I'm gonna have to start making assumptions," says Yanjun threateningly. Zhangjing tenses, his back turned to Yanjun, and then he sighs.

"I don't want to be..." Zhangjing hesitates, and Yanjun feels panic gripping his throat. This is the part where Zhangjing says it was all a mistake, and that he regrets everything they did last night. They'll never be friends again, and Yanjun will have ruined everything. "I don't wanna be fuck buddies. I can't do that."

Oh. 

_Oh._

The strain in Zhangjing's voice, the flash of pain in his eyes when he turns to looks at Yanjun, and the way his fingers fiddle with the edge of his sweater - Zhangjing doesn't think Yanjun is serious about this. He thinks Yanjun just wanted to fuck, and to be attached to anything. Yanjun didn't make it clear enough last night that he wants Zhangjing and Zhangjing alone. He couldn't care less about the sex - well, maybe not - he wants Zhangjing for Zhangjing's laughter, for his affection, for his attention. 

"So that's what you think that was?" Yanjun says, and he can't help but feel a little hurt. What did he do for Zhangjing to trust him so little? For him to doubt everything he does? "Just sex?"

"With you, yes. I don't want to be someone's experiment, Yanjun." So, Zhangjing  _had_ been crying after all. 

Yanjun is hit with the sharp realization that it isn't Yanjun who Zhangjing doubts. It's himself. He doesn't believe anyone would want him the way yanjun does. He thinks so little of himself that the thought of someone liking him seems impossible to him. Yanjun's heart breaks, because he likes Zhangjing so, so much - more than Zhangjing likes himself. 

"Zhangjing," says Yanjun quietly. He doesn't know what to say - he never does - so he steps closer. Zhangjing looks up at him, anger and misery and grief in his eyes. "You know I'm no good with words."

Zhangjing scoffs. "Understatement of the year."

"I mean it," says Yanjun firmly. 

He flirts and he says cheesy lines but when confronted with actual feelings he never knows how to form the words. He gets stuck on misunderstandings and people always mistake and misjudge but he still doesn't get it right. He's endlessly frustrated and it boils over once in a while, filling his veins with anger and sadness and doubt and he hates it so much but he can't do anything about it. To him it's so clear but when he tries to say everything out loud it becomes garbled and confusing again and he's left to figure it al lout again, like an endless cycle of torture he's willingly subjected himself to. 

"I've tried to tell you. But I can't say it right and it never works and I'm afraid sometimes and then you go off and I can't-"

Yanjun breaks off there, because he's rambling and it still doesn't work. 

Better not say anything at all. 

So he surges forward and grabs Zhangjing's face, pressing their lips together firmly - desperately, knowingly. He hopes - he prays for this to be an explanation, an apology, a confession, an excuse. Zhangjing kisses him back, maybe on instinct, but Yanjun pulls away again, because  _shit,_ he needs to say it right, for once in his fucking life. 

"I like you a lot," he says, his face close to Zhangjing's, their breaths mingling. 

Zhangjing doesn't say anything. 

He just smiles. 

It's more than enough. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, ya'll, it's been a ride. I've thoroughly enjoyed all your comments and support, so thank you so much. Before you go, I have a few questions that you can answer in the comment section. 
> 
> UPDATE: I've written a YanRen spinoff for this fic, so if you want to read it, I'll leave a link. Otherwise you can come scream at me on either my Tumblr (dumbtard) or my Twitter (@Ddumbtard)
> 
> Link to YanRen spinoff:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302604/chapters/40696805


	7. Chapter 7

HEY HEY HEY U GAYS

 

sorry this isn't an update lmao but idk how else to like say this bc i know a few of you folks have been waiting for this

 

I'm *finally* writing my YanRen spinoff!!! yay! I'm very sorry for keeping you guys waiting and all, but honestly I've been very uninspired lately. 

I'm hoping for this spinoff to be a few chapters long - not quite as long as this one, but we'll see - and it'll follow both Yanchen and Zeren from their early SM years to Idol Producer. I don't think I'll write about anything after that. Personally, I'm very excited about this, mostly because I've got a pretty solid plot in my head, so I hope you guys will look forward to it. 

The first chapter will likely be up around this weekend, maybe next. I'll post a link in the notes where I previously posted my questions for you guys when it's up. 

 

thanks so much!!!

love u!!

 

UPDATE:

here it is!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302604/chapters/40696805

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always appreciated


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